


A Pin in Your Neck

by justtheonce



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Mitchsen - Freeform, it's like fake dating-ish, there's banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtheonce/pseuds/justtheonce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty standard Mitchsen college AU. If it were anything but generic, I'd probably be able to think of more to say about it. But hey, there's not all that much Mitchsen out there, so if you're into that sort of thing then you might as well read this. M rating is for all the f-bombs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Found Two Kittens on the Tracks

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Team Dresch song 'Fake Fight.'

“There you are!” Stacie said brightly.

 

“Here I am,” Beca responded with considerably less enthusiasm. She slapped her tray down onto the table and dropped her bag heavily onto a chair.

 

“Bad day?” Stacie asked.

 

Beca slumped in her seat and spread her napkin in her lap. “They’re out of fucking mac and cheese,” she said, waving a hand over her meal. “ _ Again _ . Goddamn dining hall  _ never  _ makes enough mac and cheese.”

 

Stacie picked up Beca’s plate and set it down beside her own. “Not to fret, little one,” she said. “I got your back.” She then began to spoon mac and cheese from her plate to Beca’s.

 

“You don’t have to give yours up just because I was late,” Beca protested weakly. 

 

“Please, you know I can only eat like two bites of this shit,” Stacie scoffed. “Some of us monitor our carb consumption.”

 

“I’ve never had a better friend,” Beca said.

 

“You’ve never had any other friends,” Stacie replied.

 

“Touché.”

 

“What took you so long, anyway? I thought World Religions ended at one.”

 

“It’s supposed to,” Beca replied around the wad of mac and cheese she’d tucked into her cheek. “It went over. Fucking Aubrey Posen struck again with a lively debate that led the prof to lose track of time.”

 

“Oooh, more drama with the blonde bombshell?” Stacie asked, leaning forward eagerly. The keen look in her eyes went unnoticed by Beca, whose own eyes were on her plate. “Were you two hate flirting again?”

 

Bec just made an annoyed grunt past the half masticated chicken tender in her mouth before shooting Stacie a glare and the finger.

 

“What? She’s hot and you know it.”

 

Beca swallowed and took a sip of her Coke before responding. “Fun fact: there are more important things than looks. If all that was required for a relationship was two good looking people, you and I would be dating,” she said, gesturing between Stacie and herself with her fork.

 

“Yeah, but I don’t date,” Stacie said with a chuckle. “And I wasn't talking about dating. I was thinking something more along the lines of a good old fashioned, super aggressive hate fuck.”

 

Beca clapped a hand over her mouth to avoid spitting out her peas. When she recovered, she said, “You and I have differing approaches to dealing with people we dislike.”

 

“Show her a good time and maybe she won’t be so mean to you.”

 

“She’s not mean to me,” Beca protested. “I don’t think she’s actually  _ mean _ . She’s just an infuriating bitch.”

 

“Who seems to have a rage boner for you.”

 

“What the fuck is a rage boner?” Beca asked, laughing.

 

“Like she can’t stand you but she still wants you. And she can’t  _ stand  _ that she wants you. So she’s like,  _ really  _ pissed off about the whole thing but staring at you right now anyway.”

 

“What?” Beca squeaked, wide-eyed. She swivelled her head around, quickly sweeping her gaze over the cafeteria. She spotted Aubrey and a redhead at a nearby table and, sure enough, the blonde was looking at her. She dropped her eyes immediately, and Beca returned her attention to Stacie. “Doesn’t mean what you think it means, Stace. She’s just offended by my existence.”

 

“Hmm, maybe,” Stacie admitted. “But she’s looking this way again already, and it looks like Chloe’s making fun of her. And anyway, how bad can she really be if her best friend is Chloe Beale, actual ray of sunshine in human form?”

 

“My theory is that Chloe is the only person nice enough to put up with Aubrey’s awful personality.”

 

“What were you two arguing about this time?” Stacie asked, pushing her empty tray aside and leaning her elbows on the table.

 

“Who said I was the one arguing with her?”

 

“You do realize that if you hadn’t engaged her in a debate, class would not have run over,” Stacie observed.

 

“I just fucking said--”

 

“I don’t care what you said, I know you can’t help yourself.”

 

“Fine,” Beca said with a sigh. “We were discussing Maimonides’ Eight Levels of Giving.”

 

“And?” Stacie prompted.

 

Beca cracked a grin and shook her head briefly. “OK, so I actually agreed with what she was saying, but someone else made a -- an  _ unenlightened  _ comment and she got all  _ condescending  _ about it, which irritated me. So I just kind of, you know, riled her up a little.”

 

Stacie squinted across the table and said, “So basically the whole thing was your fault because you’re a dick and you get your rocks off by pissing off Aubrey Posen.”

 

“Maybe a little,” Beca admitted with a bashful grin and a shrug. “It’s just so funny.”

 

* * *

 

“So I hear your friend and my friend had another sparring match today,” Chloe whispered, sliding into her seat next to Stacie. “And my friend suspects your friend didn’t even believe her own arguments, but she was just arguing to be a jerk.”

 

Stacie continued positioning her notebook, pens, and Calculus book on the table in front of her. “Sorry,” Stacie replied. “Beca loves getting Aubrey all torqued up. Is she upset?”

 

“Sort of?” Chloe said. “I mean she complains about her all the time, but like -- I don’t know -- I don’t think it hurts her feelings, exactly.”

 

“Beca complains about Aubrey all the time, too. For two people who can’t stand each other, they certainly spend a hell of a lot of time talking about each other.”

 

“I know, right?” Chloe said excitedly, earning a few looks from nearby students. 

 

“Library voice in the library, Chlo,” Stacie whispered.

 

“Right,” Chloe said, much more quietly. “Anyway today I told Bree they reminded me of children on the playground, pulling pigtails and stuff.”

 

“How did she react to that?” Stacie asked.

 

“She turned kind of purple and told me I was being ridiculous,” Chloe said, unpacking her highlighters and books.

 

“They really need to bang already.”

 

Chloe hummed agreeably, but said, “I don’t really see it happening, to be honest.”

 

“We’re on the same page with this, though, right?” Stacie asked

 

“What page is that?” Chloe countered.

 

“That they’re actually perfect for each other.”

 

“Well, I mean,” Chloe began, “I don’t know. Like, o _ n paper _ , yeah, they have a lot in common. And there’s definitely some kind of -- um --  _ chemistry  _ going on there.” She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, thinking it over. “But you can’t even put them in the same room for, like, two minutes without an argument breaking out.”

 

“I think that if we locked them in a room together, they’d fight for a while but they’d be fucking inside of an hour,” Stacie said with a wicked grin.

 

“We’re  _ not  _ doing that,” Chloe said, pointing a highlighter at her friend’s face. “‘Cause it’s just as likely one of them would be dead inside of an hour.”

 

“Fair point,” Stacie conceded. “I’ll have to think of something else.”

 

“I’m pretty sure neither of them would appreciate your meddling, Stace.”

 

“Oh, please, the sex will be fucking  _ amazing _ ,” Stacie scoffed. “They’ll thank me.”

 

Chloe laughed out loud and covered mouth with both hands when she realized people were glaring at her again. “We’re not doing this,” she said once she’d caught her breath.

 

“Oh yes, we are,” Stacie replied.

 

* * *

  
  


Stacie knocked on Beca’s door a few times and was unsurprised when she got no answer. She’d gotten no answer to any of the texts she’d sent over the course of the morning, either, so she was reasonably certain Beca was holed up in her room with her headphones and her laptop, mixing music. Stacie sighed and knocked once more before trying the knob, which turned easily in her hand.

 

Upon entering the room, she grinned to see Beca hunched over her desk in front of her laptop, headphones snug around her head, back to the door. Stacie tiptoed toward her, knowing it was totally unnecessary but enjoying it anyway. When she reached her tiny friend, she grabbed her headphones with both hands, yanked them off, and yelled “Boo!”

 

“Motherfucking shit Christ!” Beca shouted. She jerked her body in what was probably an attempt to leap away from danger, but the chair and desk got in the way, so she wound up just kind of flailing a bit. 

 

Stacie stepped away and fell onto Beca’s bed, laughing and clutching her stomach.

 

“You’re the fucking worst,” Beca said, turning her chair to face her friend. “I hate you with all of my heart. All of it.”

 

Stacie was still laughing softly and wiping tears from her eyes. 

 

“Did you come here to test my stress response or was there something you wanted?” Beca asked.

 

“Well,” Stacie said, panting slightly. “I am concerned about your health. But really, you weren’t answering my texts, so I came over to ask you to come to the party with me tonight.”

 

“What party?” Beca asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

 

“A fucking  _ party _ , Beca, you know, where people get together and listen to music and dance and drink and have fun and  _ maybe  _ even hook up.”

 

“I know what a party is,” Beca said slowly. “What concerns me is that you’re being so vague,” she continued, “Usually you’d say something like, ‘Come to the football team’s party at the fieldhouse and wingman for me’ or ‘Let’s go to Daisy’s because they’re doing half price drinks for the ladies tonight and I’m feeling gay today.’ Usually you are more  _ specific _ . Your lack of detail is alarming.”

 

“Paranoid, much? Jesus, I’m just asking you to come to a party with me.”

 

“What party?” Beca repeated.

 

“The acapella party at the empty pool,” Stacie said. “All the groups will be there, but it’s not exclusive. Chloe invited me and she said I can bring you along.”

 

“You want me to go with you to an o _ rganized nerd singing party _ ? Are you fucking  _ kidding  _ me right now?”

 

“Come on, Beca,” Stacie whined. “It’s not a performance, it’s just a party.”

 

“There’s no way those nerds don’t break into song at some point,” Beca said. 

 

“Just fucking come drink free beer and dance with me,” Stacie said.

 

“Until you set your sights on whoever you decide to hook up with and leave me on my own,” Beca countered.

 

“Don’t be such a baby, there will be other people you know there. You can hang out with Chloe.”

 

“Chloe’s accessories include a borderline annoying positivity, a lack of regard for personal space, and  _ Aubrey  _ fucking  _ Posen _ . I’ll pass, thanks.”

 

“I thought you’d say that, and I’m way ahead of you, kiddo. I asked about Aubrey and apparently she only shows up at parties to make an appearance because she’s the Bellas’ captain. She’ll go early and be there for maybe an hour before she bails. You won’t have to talk to her.”

 

“I don’t wanna go,” Beca said.

 

“Yeah, well, you’re going.”

 

“You can’t make me.”

 

“I can, actually,” Stacie said, sitting up and staring Beca in the eye. She held three fingers up between their faces and wiggled them. “You owe me favors.”

 

“Do I now?”

 

“I got you mac and cheese the other day when I realized you’d be too late to get any,” Stacie said, tucking in a finger.

 

Beca scoffed. “Appreciated, but not a worthy trade.”

 

“I drove you all the way to fucking Atlanta to buy new headphones when yours broke and there was nowhere closer to get them and you didn’t think you could stand to wait the two days it would take to get them shipped here,” Stacie went on, curling in another finger.

 

Beca grunted and crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly.

 

“ _ And _ ,” Stacie said, leaning closer and waving her remaining finger back and forth. “When you got so shitwrecked that you not only puked up your guts but managed to get an awful lot of it on your bathroom floor, I cleaned it up for you.”

 

Bec hung her head, shoulders slumped, and squeezed her eyes shut. Stacie had her, and she knew it. 

 

Honestly, though, she’d expected to have to repay the vomit clean up in kind at some point. Going to a shitty party instead was actually a pretty good deal. “Fine,” she relented. “I’ll trade you for that last one.”

 

“Hmm,” Stacie said. “I don’t think that’s quite even.” She tapped her chin with her index finger and looked at the ceiling, making a very good show of thinking hard. “You’re gonna have to throw in dinner.”

 

Beca sighed. Stacie knew precisely how weak Beca’s stomach was, and in truth she was still letting Beca off lightly. “OK, we have a deal.” 

 

Stacie held her hand out and Beca took it, shaking it once.

 

“Now get the fuck out of here so I can finish this song,” Beca said.

 

Stacie grinned widely and bounced up off the bed. “I’ll come and get you at seven,” she said as she walked out.

 

“Can’t wait,” Beca muttered to herself.

  
  


* * *

 

 

**Stacie 12:47:  What time are you hitting the party tonight?**

**Chloe 12:49:  Early, Bree plans on leaving by 10**

**Stacie 12:50:  Cool, we’re getting food first but I think we should be there by 930**

**Chloe 12:53:  We?**

**Stacie 12:54:  I’m bringing Beca ;)**

**Chloe 1:01:  Shouldn’t you be planning on an arrival time AFTER Bree leaves?**

**Stacie 1:02:  Hell to the no**

**Stacie 1:02:  I am working my plan**

**Stacie 1:03:  I will smoosh their faces together if I have to**

**Chloe 1:13:  Please don’t do this**

**Stacie 1:15:  Relax, it’s gonna be great. Just try to get a few drinks into Aubrey before we get there, OK?**

**Chloe 1:20:  I want to go on record as saying I am against this plan.**

**Chloe 1:21:  When this all blows up I want to be able to show this conversation to Bree.**

**Stacie 1:23:  I’ll take all the blame**

**Stacie 1:24:  also all the credit**

**Chloe 1:27:  It’s all yours. ::Sigh:: See you tonight.**

**Stacie 1:29:  :-*  :-P**


	2. Underground Justice and Handmade Luck

"I've been here over an hour already, Chloe," Aubrey said, waving off the solo cup Chloe was shoving at her. "I made my appearance, it's time for me to go."

"Come on, Bree," Chloe whined. "We haven't really partied together since sophomore year!"

"I have a lot to do."

"One more drink," Chloe begged, batting her eyelashes and directing her very best, powerfully sad puppy eyes at her best friend. "Please."

Aubrey sighed deeply, pouring all the drama she could into it. She hated Chloe's eyes sometimes. "Fine," she said, taking the cup. "One more drink. But I think you should feel bad for using the big blue eyes thing, it's unfair."

"I almost never do!" Chloe protested.

"Yes, because you know that I'll grow inured to it if you do it too often," Aubrey retorted.

"Fair," Chloe mumbled into her cup. She was really hoping the night wouldn't be a horrific disaster. If Stacie's ill-advised plan devolved into a shitstorm, as Chloe suspected it might, she was going to have to use the eyes again to win forgiveness for the part she played.

Chloe really hoped Stacie was right, but she had serious reservations that weren't in the least bit mitigated by the fact that her plan seemed to be going off the rails already. It was a quarter til ten and Stacie still hadn't dragged Beca in yet.

"We should dance," Chloe suggested. Aubrey shrugged. "Taking that as a yes," Chloe said to herself, grabbing Aubrey's hand and dragging her toward the deep end of the pool. She managed to keep her there for four whole songs before their cups were empty and Aubrey announced that it was late, and she'd had two drinks, and it was really past time she be going home.

Chloe sighed and said, "I'll walk you to the ladder." She figured Stacie couldn't fault her for letting Aubrey go. After all, she'd done her part: she got Aubrey to the party, got more than one drink into her, and kept her there until ten. She was all too happy to admit, at least to herself, that she was kind of relieved the plan had failed.

She was a little afraid of what would go down if Stacie actually managed to force Aubrey and Beca to spend time together. She agreed wholeheartedly that they'd make an absolutely darling pair; she just thought it impractical to think they'd get over their animosity enough to ever get there.

Chloe practically skipped the last few steps toward the knot of people clustered at the foot of the ladder. She felt like she'd just driven past a police car while doing ten miles over the limit, only to look in the rearview and see that the cop hadn't pulled out after her.

Then Stacie and Beca stepped out of the crowd, and Chloe's heart sank just a little.

* * *

 

"Well, fuck me sideways," Beca deadpanned, utterly unsurprised that the first people she was faced with upon arrival were Chloe and Aubrey. There had only ever been a tiny part of her that hoped she'd be able to escape this event without any sort of bullshit.

At least Aubrey Posen provided amusing bullshit. She screwed her face into a disapproving scowl that she pointed at Beca while Chloe and Stacie squealed and hugged each other.

"Problem?" Beca asked, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head.

"You swear a lot," Aubrey answered, scrunching her nose as if she smelled something bad.

"And this offends your delicate sensibilities?" Beca shot back. Neither of them noticed Stacie latching onto both of Chloe's wrists and physically forcing her to take a few steps away.

"It's just sad," Aubrey said, "that your vocabulary is so limited you have to resort to those words."

"Actually, all things being equal, if I'm using words that you don't use then my vocabulary is necessarily more extensive than yours," Beca said.

"What exactly makes you think all things are _equal_ , Mitchell?"

"Oh, I doubt that they are, _Posen_ ," Beca said with a smirk. "I'm just giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"It's convenient that I'm leaving," Aubrey said. "So I won't have to be subjected to you and your insolence for hours on end."

"Oh, by all means," Beca said, stepping aside and waving toward the ladder. "Go sit alone in your room. It would be a shame for you to have a little fun like a normal person."

" _Your_ normal might include drinking yourself stupid - which, given your size, must require no more than one beer - before proceeding to make a complete fool of yourself, but mine does not. I have class."

"Oh really now?" Beca said with a snort. "I don't think you have your facts straight. I could drink you under the table."

Aubrey laughed. It was a real, full laugh that Beca had never heard before, and for a split second she enjoyed it so much she nearly forgot she was facing a woman who was essentially her nemesis.

"I'm from the South, Mitchell. I can drink my weight and walk a tightrope while reciting the Preamble to the Constitution," Aubrey said.

Beca opened her mouth but quickly decided 'I'd really like to see that' wasn't the best thing to say, so instead she just chuckled and said, "Sure," drawing the word out to emphasize her disbelief.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. Part of her wanted to walk away - she had nothing to prove to this little pain in the ass. Another part of her, unfortunately, wanted nothing more than to appropriate an entire keg for their personal use so she could show Beca just how wrong she was.

They stared at each other for maybe a minute, until Chloe and Stacie appeared with five beers.

"Aubrey's had two beers already, over the course of about an hour and a half," Chloe said wearily, handing Aubrey a cup.

"We figure if you chug one now, you'll be about even," Stacie added, handing two cups to Beca.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow.

Beca smiled and tilted her first cup back, downing half of it before pausing for a breath and then tossing back the rest. She threw the empty over her shoulder, earning her a hard look from Aubrey, before raising her second cup in the air.

Aubrey raised her own cup and tapped it against Beca's.

Stacie grinned so widely the corners of her mouth looked like they might touch her ears if she tried a little harder.

Chloe took a deep breath and crossed her fingers, smiling nervously and wondering if it were wiser to stay sober-ish and play referee or just get too drunk to be bothered.

Neither Beca nor Aubrey noticed either of them.

* * *

 

"I can't believe you're still drinking," Chloe said miserably around three AM as she lowered her body onto the edge of the pool next to Stacie.

"I'm not," Stacie replied, sloshing minimal liquid over the rim as she passed her cup to Chloe. "I switched to water, like, an hour ago."

"Where the fuck did you get water?" Chloe asked incredulously. "Also, can I have this? I mean, I'm taking this. I will fight you for this." She drank half of it and added, "I'm so drunk, Stacie, ohmygod."

Stacie chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. She swung her other arm toward a guy standing nearby and snapped her fingers at him. He walked away.

"What're you doing?" Chloe asked.

"Getting more water," Stacie said with a shrug. A minute later, the guy returned with another solo cup.

"I can't believe they're still going at it," Stacie said. Down in the pool, Beca and Aubrey were sitting cross legged near the far wall, facing each other, clearly arguing. "I mean, Beca can drink a lot better than her size would imply, but I've never seen her go this long."

"Same," Chloe mumbled. "Bree's a good drinker, but this is - this is - a lot."

"They're on, what, their ninth round?"

"The fire of their hatred is burning off the alcohol," Chloe proposed.

"And it's only been five hours," Stacie observed. "I'm a little worried about alcohol poisoning at this point."

"I'm worried about myself," Chloe said, leaning onto Stacie's shoulder.

"Drink some more water and then I'll walk you back," Stacie said.

"I don't think we should leave them alone," Chloe said.

"If they haven't resorted to throwing punches yet, I think we're good," Stacie said. "Though I am disappointed by the lack of mouth fusion happening down there."

"Did you really think getting them get drunk together was going to result in making out?" Chloe asked.

"Yes," Stacie said simply.

"At least it looks like no one's going to die," Chloe offered hopefully.

* * *

 

"I am telling you that Chloe would not concoct such a nefarious scheme," Aubrey said, waving her left hand dismissively. "She's far too sweet and she's perfectly incapable of keeping a secret."

"I only said she was _in_ on it, not that it was her idea. This shit has Stacie's name all over it in foot high, flashing neon," Beca replied. "And you have to admit that she could talk Chloe into it easily."

"Are you implying Chloe doesn't have a mind of her own, because -"

"No," Beca interrupted, waving a hand around. "Stop."

"I'm just not going to sit here and let you say -"

"You really think _anyone_ would talk shit about Chloe?" Beca asked.

Aubrey just stared at her.

"Oh my god, _really_?" Beca asked.

"Sometimes people think Chloe isn't very - they think she's - _dumb_ ," Aubrey said reluctantly.

"Why, because she hangs out with you?"

"Screw you, Mitchell."

"I'm just kidding," Beca said, raising a hand defensively. "I don't think she hangs out with you because she's too dumb to realize you're a bitch. I think she's just too nice to hold it against you."

"I'm not a bitch to Chloe," Aubrey said.

"But you admit that you are a bitch?"

"Only to people who deserve it."

"Whatever," Beca says. "I get it, though."

"Get what, exactly?"

"That you'd get defensive about your best friend. I mean, you should hear some of the shit people say about Stacie," Beca said.

"I have heard some of it," Aubrey admitted.

Beca watched her face for any signs of disapproval or judgment, waited for her to say something shitty or to ask if the rumors were true. She wrapped her left hand into a fist in preparation. Aubrey returned her gaze impassively.

"I don't take much stock in rumors," Aubrey finally said. "And I'm of the opinion that if she were a man, people would pat her on the back instead of talking behind it."

"Yeah, double standards are a bitch," Beca said, relaxing her fingers. They sat quietly for a few moments before Beca said, "Check your freakishly wide peripheral vision. Are they still up there?"

"Yes, but Chloe's fading faster than cheap hair dye. She's leaning on Stacie so heavily I suspect that may be the only reason she's upright." Aubrey pursed her lips and realized she'd probably have to leave soon in order to take Chloe home. Then she furrowed her brows as it registered that she didn't really want to go.

"I'm confident that Stacie stopped drinking beer a while ago. She hates getting sloppy drunk," Beca said, as if reading her mind. "She'll take care of Chloe."

"Are you sure?" Aubrey asked, tossing her head a bit, as if thoroughly annoyed at what she'd just heard.

"She'll be a perfect gentleman - er - gentlewoman, whatever. Chloe is safe with her."

"I'm holding you personally responsible for that."

"I'd expect nothing less."

"Good," Aubrey said. "The sooner they leave the premises, the sooner we can stop doing this."

"They're going to be bitter when they realize we played them," Beca said.

"They tried to play us first!" Aubrey said.

"Hey man, no, I'm on board. Turnabout is fair play," Beca agreed, wagging a finger as if she were scolding Aubrey. "I'm just saying they won't like that we've been drinking soda since we figured out their little game three hours ago."

"Well, that's what they get for thinking they can outsmart us," Aubrey said. "I am _really_ wired, though."

"Me, too!" Beca exclaimed. "And I'm not entirely sure it's more pleasant than being drunk."

"I feel like I should run ten miles to burn it off."

"You are on your own with that one," Beca said, exerting quite a bit of effort to stifle a laugh.

She'd been working rather hard for a while now, to keep herself from laughing or smiling or - the _horror_ \- playfully swatting at Aubrey's knee. She was kind of having a good time, and it was unsettling. She was, at this point, totally half-assing their previously agreed-upon 'maintain defensive body language and aggressive gesturing' act.

The truth was that, yeah, Stacie's assessment of Aubrey's physical attractiveness was spot on. Beca had noticed that, herself, and knew from sharing a class with her that she was also quite smart. What really pissed her off, though, was the realization that Aubrey was, in addition to those qualities, a little bit charming. And she actually had a sense of humor, which Beca would never in a million years have guessed.

The version of Aubrey Posen sitting in front of Beca was sort of good company.

Beca could possibly see where Stacie was coming from. She could almost kind of imagine spending more time with Aubrey, just the two of them, without having been tricked into it.

"Oh, Stacie's standing up," Aubrey said. "And trying to - OK, I think she's enlisted the help of a High Note to get Chloe standing. You can look, this ought to require their full attention."

Beca turned her head to watch, and Aubrey did, as well. Stacie wrapped her arm around Chloe's waist and draped one of Chloe's arms across her shoulders. Chloe's headed lolled drunkenly onto Stacie's shoulder, but her body remained upright. More or less.

"I have my doubts about this," Aubrey said.

"Stacie's stronger than she looks," Beca assured her.

The High Note guy reached for Chloe as if to provide further assistance, but a few words from Stacie had him backing away with his hands up in front of himself placatingly. Stacie and Chloe began to move slowly but surely away from the pool.

"See?" Beca asked. "Nobody's touching her but Stacie, and she can totally hold her up like that for, like, a mile."

"Good. As soon as they get out of sight, we can leave."

"Maybe I don't want to leave," Beca ventured, trying for a playful tone and landing on something closer to antagonistic.

"Then stay," Aubrey said with a shrug. "Do whatever you want, it's not like I care."

Beca sighed and tried to ignore the slight tightness in her chest. It was bad enough that she'd started to actually _like_ Aubrey; realizing it wasn't mutual was pretty uncool. It kind of hurt.

"Right," she said eventually. Stacie and Chloe were gone, so she stood and stuffed her hands in her pockets to keep herself from offering to help Aubrey up. "This has really been - something." Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

Ideally, she'd have liked to walk through a crowd of people and disappear immediately, but the party had thinned out quite a bit. There were still groups of students chatting and dancing and even, to Beca's great dismay, engaging in impromptu acapella performances, but there was no teeming throng for her to get lost in. Aubrey could watch her walk away until she was out of sight.

Beca wondered if she would, but she'd be damned if she was turning around to find out.

* * *

 

Aubrey watched Beca's retreating form with her lips pursed and her brow furrowed. She wanted to get up and go after her, but she stayed seated due to being uncertain as to whether that desire stemmed from wanting to confront her about how rudely she had left or from wanting to spend more time with her.

It was puzzling and inconvenient for Aubrey, but the fact was that Beca Mitchell wasn't the most awful person to spend five hours talking to. She was, as Aubrey had already known, intelligent and cute. Maybe even pretty. That she was also kind of adorably awkward and witty threw Aubrey for a loop, however, and the way Aubrey had been absorbed in their conversation all night was something she hadn't expected.

Aubrey's disappointment that the night was over, though - _that_ was deeply disturbing, and she wished she could blame it on being drunk. It was tempting to blame it on an overdose of caffeine from all the sodas she'd had, but that was bullshit and she was Aubrey Posen. Aubrey Posen did not obscure tough truths with bullshit.

She had actually _enjoyed_ hanging out with Beca; after they'd realized they'd been set up and decided to stop getting drunk and just wait for their friends to run out of patience with watching them, they'd found that they had enough in common that they could talk for hours without running out of things to say.

Beca could be an infuriating pain in the ass, but she was also smart, and clever, and funny. And she looked pretty great in those skinny jeans, even if there _was_ a hole in one knee and even though she _was_ wearing ratty Chucks and a plaid shirt.

Aubrey sighed and whispered, "God damn it" under her breath before pushing up to her feet and following Beca, who was already climbing the ladder out of the pool.

Aubrey walked over quickly, climbed quickly; when she reached the top, she looked around quickly. Beca was already a good twenty feet away, her short legs carrying her on a determined stride and her arms wrapped around her torso.

"Mitchell!" Aubrey called out.

Beca stopped, looked up at the sky, and took a visibly deep breath before turning around. "Yes, Posen?"

Aubrey paused, realizing that she'd failed to plan any farther than this moment, which was unlike her and made her feel strangely off balance. "It's late," she finally offered. "You - uh - you shouldn't walk home alone."

Beca chuckled and pulled something from her pocket, "It's cool, I have my rape whistle. Don't worry your pretty little head." She didn't turn away, though. She just stood there, dangling the whistle, like she was waiting for Aubrey to try again.

"Was that a _compliment_ , Mitchell?" Aubrey asked. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Beca laughed as she turned around and continued to walk away. "I don't," she threw over her shoulder. "You're just hearing what you want to hear."

"Why would I care what you think?" Aubrey asked.

"Because I'm awesome and you want me to like you," Beca said, spinning back around. "I don't blame you, I mean, seriously," she added, using both hands to gesture up and down her body. "Look at this."

Aubrey cupped her right elbow in her left hand and covered her mouth with her right, which did very little to muffle her laughter. "I don't think I've ever met anyone so ridiculous," she choked out.

"Was that a _compliment_ , Posen?"

"Of course not," Aubrey said. She noticed how silly they must look, standing fifteen feet apart, sniping back and forth, but she made no effort to move any closer. "What kind of person thinks being called ridiculous is a compliment?"

"The kind of person who is walking away from you now," Beca said, turning around yet again.

"Stacie is making sure my best friend makes it home safely," Aubrey said, finally stepping forward and using her longer legs to catch up with Beca.

"Yes, she is," Beca said. "We have been over this."

"Well it only seems fair, then, that I make sure hers gets home."

Beca chuckled and rubbed a hand over her face. "I'm not drunk. I don't need your help."

"Because you have your rape whistle," Aubrey said, falling into step beside her. "Which is only useful if it's actually happening."

Beca laughed and said, "Are you hungry?"

"What?"

"Hungry," Beca repeated. "Like, when you haven't put any food in your body for hours and your stomach feels kind of empty."

"I know what hungry means," Aubrey said.

"Well, are you?"

It dawned on Aubrey that she hadn't eaten anything substantial in over eight hours. Then it dawned on her stomach, which rumbled in a decidedly unladylike fashion.

"So, that's a yes," Beca said. "Look, we're both over-caffeinated and underfed. The Hot Tomato is two blocks away and open twenty four hours. I propose we go there and eat a pizza."

Aubrey thought about it for half a dozen steps. She nearly declined out of force of habit, but she knew that clinging to her previous aversion to Beca would only be the result of her own incredible stubbornness. She could do it, certainly. She could hold onto it indefinitely - she had the tenacity to hate Beca Mitchell for the rest of her life, if she put her mind to it.

She'd have to put her mind to it, though - that was the thing. It wasn't how she really felt, not anymore.

"Sure," she eventually agreed. "Let's eat a pizza."

"Cool," Beca said.

"You don't eat anything weird on your pizza, do you?"

"If it's on a pizza, I will try it at least once," Beca replied, "but I'm generally a bacon and onion kind of girl."

"You're kidding," Aubrey said, managing - by sheer force of will - to hold back a gasp.

"I don't kid about pizza," Beca said, turning her head and putting on her best serious face. "Why would I kid about pizza?"

"I don't know, I just-" Aubrey said. "I'm just surprised."

"Why?"

"Bacon and onion is my favorite," Aubrey said quietly, watching her feet.

"No shit," Beca said. "That's bizarre. I felt sure we'd end up arguing over toppings. I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone right now."

"We can always fight about something else," Aubrey offered. "If it'll make you feel better."

Beca just laughed.

Aubrey joined in.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planned on updating this coming weekend, but shit's gonna be busy so here you go. Don't expect another til the following weekend. It's not likely, I am never on schedule. OK OK, I don't make schedules at all.
> 
> I do have some more written after this, but I'm of two minds about it. Lemme know if y'all have opinions on the direction this heads off in. Maybe I'll like one and steal it from you. That doesn't sound lazy at all.
> 
> And hey, thanks so much for the kudos. I get warm fuzzy feelings.
> 
> OH YEAH I almost forgot. I have a tendency to fuck up formatting, so do please let me know if I've done so. Also I have a shitshow tumblr at writeme-justtheonce.


	3. All I Know is What I See

Aubrey was on the couch, catching up on reading for her Faulkner class, when Chloe staggered down the hall a little after noon.

 

“Thanks for the water and Advil,” Chloe mumbled. She was steadying herself against the wall with one hand and using the other to shield her eyes from the sunlight streaming through the window. “I hate the sun. The sun is a giant prick.”

 

“Stacie left that for you, actually,” Aubrey said, closing her book. 

 

“Stacie?”

 

“She brought you home last night,” Aubrey explained. 

 

“Oh, that’s--” Chloe lowered herself carefully onto the couch and gently rested her head in Aubrey’s lap. “That happened, yeah. I remember that happening. A little.”

 

Aubrey stroked her friend’s red curls softly. “How’s your head?”

 

“Awful, Bree. It’s awful. How are you even  _ alive? _ You drank  _ all  _ of the beers. I  _ saw  _ you,” Chloe said quietly. She poked aubrey’s leg for emphasis.

 

“Actually,” Aubrey said, “Beca and I figured out your plan pretty quickly, so we started drinking soda to spite you two.”

 

“Stacie’s plan,” Chloe corrected. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I helped her and I’m sorry I fell for your tricks and I’m sorry I drank until three AM. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

“Oh, sweetie,” Aubrey cooed. “I think your current condition is more than enough punishment.”

 

“It really  _ was  _ Stacie’s idea, though,” Chloe said, sitting up ever so slowly. “Wait. Why are you not mad?”

 

“Why would I be mad?”

 

“Because I kept you at the party long enough for Stacie to show up with Beca, and then we coerced you into hanging out with each other all night,” Chloe said. Then she scrunched up her face and asked, “Which, by the way, how did neither of you die?”

 

Aubrey shrugged. “We decided to join forces temporarily. Against you and Stacie.” 

 

“So you two sat there, pretending to drink beer, for five hours while Stacie watched you like a movie and I drank myself useless, and all the while you could have ended it by just telling us the jig was up,” Chloe said thoughtfully. “I want to be mad at you but my head hurts too hard.”

 

“I’ll get you some more water and make you an egg,” Aubrey sat, patting Chloe’s knee before getting up to head for the kitchen.

 

Chloe curled up in a ball at the end of the couch and reached for the TV remote. Aubrey’s phone was sitting next to it, and it vibrated against the coffee table as Chloe turned on the TV. “Your phone, Bree,” she said, as loudly as she could manage. “You have a message or something.”

 

Aubrey swept into the living room and snatched up her phone. She woke it up as she turned to head back to the kitchen, but Chloe caught sight of the smile on her face before her back was fully turned.

 

Chloe’s eyes widened. Aubrey didn’t do silly, giddy smiles at the sight of a text, no matter who had sent it. Aubrey texted with classmates about assignments. She texted with the Bellas about rehearsals. She texted with Chloe about grocery lists and how long it had been since Chloe had tidied the living room. She read texts with the same face she wore to read a textbook or a recipe or the description on the back of a DVD case.

 

She did not  _ ever _ , in Chloe’s vast experience, wear a smile that appeared to be tight from trying to rein it in. 

 

Chloe dug her own phone from the pocket of her pajama pants and texted Stacie.

* * *

 

When Chloe walked into the coffee shop, Stacie was waiting in a booth by the big front window with two iced coffees and two egg and croissant sandwiches. Chloe slid in across from her and let out something resembling the bastard love child of a squeal and a moan.

“You are fucking magnificent,” she said after a long pull on her straw. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, I figured it was the least I could do,” Stacie said. “Your epic hangover is partially my fault.”

Chloe just formed the biggest closed-lipped smile she could manage around the bite of sandwich in her mouth.

“So, you said Aubrey was being weird?” Stacie asked.

“Mhm,” Chloe said, swallowing quickly. “First of all, she’s not hungover because those two jerks realized it was a setup and stopped drinking.”

“Beca told me,” Stacie replied. “She actually came to my room at nine fucking AM to wake me up and gloat. Loudly. I’d be annoyed, but I kind of have to respect that.”

Chloe hummed around another mouthful of egg and flaky pastry. She washed it down with more coffee and said, “So, Bree got a text right before I texted you. She made this, like, happy little face that she tried to  _ hide  _ from me by walking out of the room. Like, ‘my crush just texted me’ face.”

“OK,” Stacie said. “It’s not that weird to smile when you get a text, though.”

“It is for Bree.”

“Hm. And this was right before you told me to meet you here?”

“Yup,” Chloe said.

“Beca and I were watching TV at that time. She was steady glued to her phone, but that’s not all that unusual. She gets sucked into Triple Town a lot.”

“Was she all smily?” 

“Kind of, but she was also being insufferably smug about getting one over on us,” Stacie said. “She smiles -- well -- she  _ smirks  _ a lot when she’s being smug.”

“Pretty big coincidence, though. Do you think they were texting each other?”

Stacie propped her chin on her fist and looked out the window. “I don’t know. I’m assuming you were passed out before Aubrey came home.”

“I think I passed out somewhere between the lobby and my apartment door, actually,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, you did get heavier at the end, there,” Stacie said with a chuckle, turning away from the window to pick up her sandwich. She regarded it for a moment before accepting the fact that the queasiness in her stomach was not going away unless she put something in it. Then she took a bite.

Chloe giggled. “Thanks for the water and Advil, by the way,” she said. 

“No problem. Any time, really. You’re a pretty easy drunk to handle. Way easier than Beca.”

“Yeah, I bet she’s a handful.”

“Every now and then. Mostly she’s fine, but once in a while she gets all fighty and I have to drag her off of someone,” Stacie said. “Or sometimes she’ll get it into her head that she can do something she really can’t do.”

“Like what?”

“Like one time she tried to leap frog one of those big blue mailboxes.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah she crashed straight into it,” Stacie said, laughing. “She just ran right at it, fast as she could, and then -BAM- flattened herself on it.”

“Was she hurt?”

“Couple of bruises. Mostly just her pride.”

Chloe made a small, disapproving humming sound. “So. We don’t know when they left the party and we have no idea when either of them got home.”

“They could have gotten in right after us, or they could have come in hours later after banging in Aubrey’s car,” Stacie said. “We have no way of knowing and I feel like both scenarios are equally likely.”

Chloe pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I worry that we’re too invested in this. I feel like a creep.”

“I don’t,” Stacie said. 

“What if it’s a trick?”

“What if what’s a trick?”

“What if they  _ are  _ texting each other,” Chloe explained, “but they’re just doing it to mess with us?”

Stacie thought that over before shrugging and saying, “I would take that as a win, honestly.”

Chloe stared at her cup for a minute. She looked back at Stacie, watching her chew for a few seconds and trying to get comfy with her current predicament. She felt sure that the best thing for them to do at this point was to let it go. They’d done enough, honestly, to get the ball rolling, and more meddling would not only increase their chances of reprisal from their friends, it would sink them deeper into what could very likely turn into a huge mess.

She really didn’t want the drama, but she had a feeling Stacie was far more willing to accept the consequences and would just cheerfully forge ahead, regardless. 

Chloe sighed.  She might as well go along with it. She was already involved, after all, and she really did think Aubrey and Beca were a good match.  “We’re going to have to get them in the same room again, aren’t we?”

Stacie just grinned and nodded.

* * *

 

“Look at those losers,” Beca said from her perch on the back of the bus stop bench, waving a hand toward the front window of the coffee shop. “They’re totally talking about us, right?”

“Seems likely,” Aubrey said. “I imagine they’re hatching another plot like last night’s.” She took a seat on the bench next to Beca’s feet. Her shoulder came to rest lightly against the side of Beca’s leg, but she didn’t adjust her position. Neither did Beca.

“I hate to say it, Posen, but you were right,” Beca said. “This is a good spot.”

“I told you,” Aubrey said, “no one pays attention to who’s sitting at the bus stop.”

“I have to wonder, though, how it is that you know so much about good stalking locations.”

“We are not  _ stalking  _ them. We are merely  _ observing  _ them in order to determine what they are up to.”

“We don’t have to watch them to know what they’re up to,” Beca said. “We can easily infer it from the way they reacted to us texting each other.”

Aubrey shrugged. “Actually, we still can’t tell what they’re up to  _ while  _ we’re watching. They could be talking about us, certainly, but they could just as easily be talking about the E! Network or world peace.”

Beca considered this for a moment. “Fair point. What are the chances we get away with sneaking inside and listening in?”

“Zero.”

“One of us could go in, take a closer look. And bring back coffee.”

“You don’t think that would look odd, one of us just  _ happening  _ to walk in while they’re in there? And then getting  _ two  _ coffees?” Aubrey asked.

“Yeah, I think it’ll look shady as hell. I think they’ll ask who the other coffee is for, and then you can gauge their reactions when you reply with something vague and noncommittal,” Beca said.

Aubrey pursed her lips and thought it over. “Maybe you should go.”

“Honestly? I doubt my ability to keep the shit eating grin off my face. Also my ability to repress the need to rub their faces in their hangovers.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Aubrey said slowly, “that I should go in because your self control is questionable and mine is amazing?”

“Not what I said.”

“But it is what you meant.”

“If I give you money, will you just fucking go already?” Beca asked, leaning back a bit to dig in her pocket. Aubrey lifted a hand above Beca’s knee and held it there, palm up, until Beca slapped a few bills into it. “A little cream, no sugar.”

Aubrey stood up with a chuckle and headed across the street.

* * *

 

“Well, I know one thing for sure,” Stacie said. “Beca and Aubrey are not together right now.”

“How?” Chloe asked.

“Aubrey’s  _ here _ ,” Stacie answered, nodding toward the counter.

Chloe turned around and, sure enough, her best friend was placing an order. 

“I know it’s mean, but I hate how not hungover she is,” Chloe lamented.

“Both of those bitches can kiss my ass,” Stacie said. 

“She’s getting two coffees,” Chloe observed. “Why does she need two?”

“Call her over here and let’s find out,” Stacie said, watching Aubrey pour cream into both cups.

“I can’t,” Chloe said.

“Why not?”

“I can’t raise my voice,” Chloe explained. “My head can’t take it. I’ll text her.”

Aubrey fished her phone out of her purse and forced herself to look around slowly, as if she didn’t know exactly where Chloe was. When she finally ‘spotted’ Chloe and Stacie, she smiled and walked over.

“Hello ladies,” she said. “How are you?”

“Still hungover, thank you for asking,” Chloe said.

“You two deserved it,” Aubrey said. “Maybe now you’ll abandon this silly idea.”

“Who’s the coffee for?” Stacie asked.

“Me,” Aubrey replied.

“You got yourself two coffees?” Stacie asked.

Chloe slumped over the table, resting her head on her arms and sighing.

“Why not?” Aubrey asked.

“Because that’s weird,” Stacie said. “Those are both smalls. Why get yourself two smalls? Why not one large? You’re taking one to someone else.”

“So maybe I am. Who cares?”

“I do,” Stacie said. “I care deeply about  _ who  _ you’re taking that coffee  _ to _ .”

“Why?”

“Because I watched you put in cream but not sugar,” Stacie said, cocking her head. “That’s how  _ Beca  _ takes her coffee.”

“It’s also how  _ I  _ take my coffee,” Aubrey said. “And how millions of other Americans do as well, I imagine.”

“I like sugar,” Chloe said quietly.

“What are the two of you up to, anyway?” Aubrey asked. “It’s odd that you’d venture out in public when you’re this hungover, Chloe. I’m surprised you aren’t still curled up on the couch.”

“Kind of wish I was,” Chloe said.

“What was so important that you actually changed out of your pajamas?” Aubrey faked a gasp. “Are you two, like, secretly dating?”

Stacie laughed.

Chloe raised her head enough to glare at her. “I’m datable,” she mumbled.

“Of course you are, sweetie, but I don’t date,” Stacie said, patting Chloe’s arm.

Chloe laid her head down again. “I feel like shit and I’m not really up for this back and forth between you two,” she said, shifting enough to look at Aubrey without sitting upright. “What happened last night, Bree? Did you and Beca hook up, or did you just go home?”

“We did not hook up,” Aubrey said, plastering what she hoped was a convincingly disgusted look on her face. The difficulty of it troubled her. “That is ridiculous, Chloe.”

“OK, mystery solved,” Chloe said. “I’ll just lay here and gather my strength until I feel like I can make it back to the couch.” She closed her eyes, and Stacie reached over to rub her arm soothingly.

“I hope you feel better soon,” Aubrey said. “I must be going. See you later.”

“Yeah, you’d better hurry. Beca hates cold coffee.”

Aubrey just shot her a glare and walked out.

* * *

 

Aubrey paused on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. She made eye contact with Beca and jerked her lead slightly before turning left and walking down the block. When she got to the corner and crossed the street, Beca was waiting on the other side with her hand out. Aubrey passed her one of the cups of coffee, and they both pretended not to notice their fingers brushing against each other during the handoff.

“OK, spill it,” Beca said after a sip of hot liquid and a satisfied little sigh. “What’s going on in there?”

“Chloe is possibly dying,” Aubrey said. “Stacie is not as hungover and miserable as I’d like.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, please. They both deserve the hangovers, but you know as well as I do that Stacie is the real instigator. It’s not fair that Chloe’s suffering more.”

“OK, I get that,” Beca said, “but I made a lot of loud noises when I went over to her place this morning. She suffered, trust me.”

Aubrey huffed. “It’ll have to do, I suppose.”

“Anything else?”

“Stacie was  _ incredibly  _ interested in the fact that I was holding two coffee cups.”

“Of course she was. What did you tell them?”

“Nothing,” Aubrey said airily. “Then I accused them of secretly dating behind our backs.”

Beca laughed against the top of her cup and was instantly grateful that it had a lid. 

“Anyway, Stacie kind of tried to interrogate me, but Chloe was too sick to be bothered so she came right out and asked if you and I hooked up last night.”

“Tell me you lied,” Beca said with a grin. “Because that’d be  _ hilarious _ .”

“I did  _ not  _ lie,” Aubrey said. “I’m not above  _ misleading  _ them, but I won’t lie, especially not to Chloe.”

“Did you at least leave room for speculation?”

“A little.”

“That’s weak, Posen,” Beca said. 

“I didn’t want to be too obvious,” Aubrey argued. “We want them to think we’re hiding something, right?”

“Right.”

“OK, then I couldn’t very well just blurt out the fake secret. I had to make a show of trying to  _ hide  _ the fake secret.”

“This is getting a little complicated,” Beca said.

“Do try to keep up,” Aubrey said, walking away. 

“Where are you going?” Beca asked, trotting a few steps to catch up.

“I’m not sure yet,” Aubrey said. “How far are we taking this?”

“As far as we possibly can,” Beca answered. “It’s  _ really  _ amusing.”

“Then we need a plan.”

“A plan? Let’s just wing it.”

“I do not ‘wing it,’ Mitchell,” Aubrey said, lifting her chin and sniffing disapprovingly.

“Your panties must be so fucking tight,” Beca countered.

“My panties are none of your business.”

“Whatever.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes in a direction vaguely toward campus.

“OK, how about this: we go somewhere on campus where people will see us,” Beca suggested. “Eat lunch or something, make a show of having fun.”

“Chloe is going home as soon as she finds the will to lift her head off the table, so she won’t see us,” Aubrey said. “Do you know what Stacie is doing today?”

“No, no, no, I don’t want to be seen by  _ them _ ,” Beca said. “I want to be seen by people who will  _ tell  _ them.”

“Ah,” Aubrey said, smiling widely and nodding. “That is a surprisingly subtle and insidious plan.”

“Surprisingly?” Beca sputtered.

Aubrey shrugged and said, “You are generally as subtle as a brick to the face.”

“If I had a brick right now,” Beca muttered to herself.

“I heard that,” Aubrey snapped.

“I don’t care,” Beca said. “So who can we count on to notice us and then gossip to our friends about it?”

“Hm. We’ll have to find some Bellas, I think.”

“Why?”

“Well for one thing, they won’t try to come talk to us,” Aubrey explained.

“Because you’re an evil dictator and they fear you?”

“I am  _ not  _ an evil dictator,” Aubrey said.

“But they  _ do  _ fear you.”

“I  _ am  _ in charge of how many laps they run at rehearsal,” Aubrey said.

“That would scare me,” Beca said. “So if they see us together, they’ll go directly to Chloe with that information?”

“They will light up her phone like the Fourth of July,” Aubrey assured her. “But I very much doubt they’d gossip about it to anyone but other Bellas.”

“Sweet,” Beca said. “Where can we find us some Bellas?”

* * *

 

“ _ Jess _ ,” Ashley hissed as she reached across the picnic table and latched onto her friend’s arm with enough force to kill a small rodent.

“Ow!” Jessica yelped. 

Ashley loosened her grip but said nothing. Instead, she raised her free hand and pointed across the quad.

“What is it?” Jessica asked.

“Aubrey.”

“We don’t have rehearsal today, Ash. She can’t hurt you,” Jessica said, turning around to look for her captain.

“OK, first of all, you know that isn’t true,” Ashley said. “And second of all, this isn’t fear. It’s shock.”

“I see Aubrey walking across the quad with some chick, and they are holding what looks like carryout. Why are we shocked?”

“Because that chick is Beca Mitchell.”

“I don’t know her,” Jessica said, turning back to her lunch.

“She’s in World Religions with Aubrey and me.”

“So?”

“ _ So _ ,” Ashley said, “she’s the one--”

“--Aubrey’s always bitching about!” Jessica finished. “And Chloe thinks--”

“--that they’re secretly into each other,” Ashley said. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“We should tell Chloe.”

They reached for their phones and, not even noticing they’d picked up each other’s, both sent off exclamation point and emoji laden messages.

* * *

 

“How about this table?” Beca asked.

“Too much sun,” Aubrey replied. “You have the skin tone of a person who could get a sunburn through a beach umbrella.”

“Aw, you noticed,” Beca said drily. “How sweet.”

“Shut it, Mitchell.” Aubrey cast her eyes about briefly and jutted her chin in the direction of an empty table under a tree. “Let’s sit over there. It’s shaded and I’ll have a good view of Jashley.”

“What the fuck is a Jashley?” Beca asked.

“Jessica and Ashley,” Aubrey explained as she walked. “They’re always together. They finish each other’s sentences. We suspect they share a wardrobe.”

“Are they dating?”

“I don’t think so,” Aubrey said. “But you never get one without the other, so we hardly ever have a reason to use just one of their names.”

“Do they  _ know  _ you call them Jashley?”

“Yes.”

“And they’re fine with that?”

“Yes,” Aubrey repeated, taking a seat and opening the bag she’d been carrying. “I think they kind of like it, actually.”

“You acapella chicks are weird,” Beca observed.

“You willingly poked large holes in your ears,” Aubrey replied calmly. “I hardly think you have room to talk.”

Beca chose not to respond, because Aubrey kind of had a point and Beca didn’t want to admit it, so she just opened the second bag. Between the two of them, they quickly and efficiently laid out their food, beverages, and napkins.

Aubrey was struck by the fact that they were able to accomplish the task without bumping into each other or reaching for the same items, almost as if they’d done it a million times before. Almost as if they were on the same wavelength.

Aubrey suppressed a shudder at the thought, and decided that later was the right time to examine whether or not it was shudder of disgust.

“Have they seen us?” Beca asked.

“Oh, yes,” Aubrey said, grinning. “They’re splitting their attention between us and their phones.”

“Wow, that was quick.”

“Told you so.”

Beca took a bite of her burger and chewed it a few times before swallowing it with a swig of her iced tea. She opened her mouth to make a smartass comment about the way Aubrey took small, almost dainty bites of her turkey club, but ultimately decided against it. She took the thought that Aubrey’s eating habits were kind of cute, rolled it up into a tiny ball, and stuffed it as far into the back of her mind as it would go.

“So, we should discuss how we play this,” Aubrey suggested. “Lay out some ground rules.”

“Rules?”

“Guidelines, boundaries.”

“I know what rules are,” Beca said. “But like, what are you talking about specifically?

“Like, what message are we trying to send here? How far are we willing to go? Is it enough to sit here and act like we're having a nice time, or do we need to up our game?”

Beca swallowed a french fry and the lump in her throat that Aubrey’s use of the words ‘act like’ created before saying, “That depends on what upping our game would entail, I suppose.”

“Maybe -- do you think we could stand --”

“Spit it out, Posen,” Beca said. “Since where did you become a wuss?”

Aubrey growled, an actual rumble straight from her throat, and looked away from Beca’s gleeful smirk before saying, “We could hold hands.” She hoped the warmth in her face wouldn’t result in a visible blush. “Maybe that would be too much,” she added hastily.

“Um, well,” Beca said. It  _ would  _ be too much. Maybe not too much in terms of their plan, but certainly too much in terms of how far Beca was willing to delve into whatever  _ feelings  _ she may or may not be having. She could say it was too obvious. She could make a quip about how touching Aubrey would be gross or something. “Are you sure you could handle that?” 

Baiting. She decided to go with baiting.

Aubrey’s eyes shot up, and they were hard. “I can handle anything you can, Mitchell,” she said.

“Hey, I’m game if you are,” Beca said, striving for nonchalance. She slid her right hand to the middle of the table and turned it palm up.

Aubrey looked at it. It was a challenge, clear as day. 

Aubrey Posen did not back down from a challenge. She raised her left hand over the table and then lowered it slowly until the just pads of her fingers rested against Beca’s. They remained still for a few long moments, and were both too busy averting their eyes and steadying their heartbeats to notice the other was blushing.

Beca recovered first and said, “Are they, uh, are they looking?”

Aubrey cut her eyes briefly, said, “Oh, yes,” and picked up her sandwich with her right hand.

“Huh. You’re right handed, I’m left handed,” Beca observed.

“Yes, and?”

“It’s convenient,” Beca responded with a shrug that just so happened to push her hand a little farther under Aubrey’s. 

Aubrey’s mouth was full, so she just hummed and nodded.

* * *

 

“Ohmygod, Stacie,” Chloe said as they walked back to campus. “Aubrey and Beca are having lunch together.  _ In public _ .”

“What? How do you know?”

“Jashley just texted me from the quad,” Chloe went on.

“What’s a Jashley?”

“Jessica and Ashley, it’s a -- not important.”

“OK, let’s go check it out,” Stacie said.She grabbed the hem of Chloe’s shirt to urge her into changing directions.

“Let’s not,” Choe said, pulling away.

“Are you kidding? We have to investigate this.”

“OK, first of all, what are we gonna do, hide behind a tree and peer around it? That is  _ stalking _ , Stacie.”

Stacie just crossed her arms, jutted a hip, and waited for Chloe to finish.

“Second,” Chloe said. “This hangover is seriously dulling my interest in whatever our friends are up to.” Stacie pouted, cocked her head, and opened her mouth to speak, but Chloe cut her off with a hand over her mouth. “And third,” she said, holding her phone up to Stacie’s face, “Jashley will keep me posted.”

Stacie's eyes widened at the picture in front of her. It was taken from farther away than she’d have liked; she snatched the phone from Chloe’s hand and zoomed in.

“Holy shit,” Stacie breathed. “They’re holding hands.” Chloe tried to take her phone back, but Stacie was clutching it like a lifeline and grinning like mad. “They’re _ holding hands! _ ” she squealed.

“Let me see!” Chloe said. Stacie turned the phone around and Chloe let out a joyous yelp before squeezing her eyes shut and pressing a hand to her head. “OK, that's super awes, but can we go be quietly excited at my apartment with the lights off?”

“Sure,” Stacie said, handing over the phone. “But first text -- Jashley? -- text them back. Tell them to maintain surveillance.”

“OK,” Chloe said. “But stop using words like that.”

Stacie giggled and looped an arm though one of Chloe’s, practically skipping as she pulled Chloe down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments and for the fact that you've read this at all. 
> 
> You may have noticed there's an opening to add a little side of Chacie in this fic; it wasn't my in original plan, but since the groundwork is kind of there I'm considering it a little. Let me know if any of you would be into that.


	4. Hundred and Forty-One Days No Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the usual thanks for humoring me in all the ways that you do.

Aubrey and Beca spent the following week sharing the occasional walk through campus, exchanging numerous text messages, and giving their best friends a whole hell of a lot of indefinite answers mixed with a healthy smattering of denials and ‘slip ups.’   
  
Stacie and Chloe spent the week arguing over which portmanteau of their best friends’ names sounded best, setting up a loose network of people who would alert them to any Mitchsen (their ultimate choice) activity, and comparing notes with each other.  
  
Stacie actually had a three ring binder filled with all the information they’d manage to gather, including a calendar of sightings. It had no markings on the outside except a picture of the Black Pearl, which Chloe found slightly tacky but Stacie thought was rather clever.  
  
“This binder makes me feel like we crossed a line, like, a few miles ago,” Chloe whispered in the library on Thursday afternoon, “and that’s really saying something because I’ve been told my awareness of acceptable social boundaries is questionable at best.”  
  
“I admit that it’s a bit -- sketchy,” Stacie allowed, “but I also think it’s too late to go back.”  
  
“You’re probably right,” Chloe said, planting an elbow on the table and resting the side of her face in her open hand.   
  
“So, what was Aubrey’s excuse for not meeting us here?”  
  
“Some convoluted bullshit about seeing a movie for a class,” Chloe said.  
  
Stacie chuckled and made a note on the next blank page in the binder. “Beca said something similar. Acted all put out. I offered to go along and she just about choked before launching into a ramble about how boring it would be for me.”  
  
“Aubrey said it was more important that I get my own homework done,” Chloe said. “Just about forbade me to go with her.”  
  
“Beca keeps ditching me at the same times as Aubrey ditches you,” Stacie observed as she paged through her notes.  
  
“But they keep denying that anything’s going on and they avoid being together in our presence at all costs.”  
  
“But we have quite a few eyewitness accounts that they do spend time together, as well as several pictures -- including two in which they are holding hands,” Stacie summarized, holding up two fingers for emphasis.  
  
“Yeah, but exactly zero evidence of kissing. Or even hugging,” Chloe complained.   
  
“We’ll get proof sooner or later,” Stacie said, sliding her hand across the table to squeeze Chloe’s. “Hang in there.”  
  
“If we find out they’re just playing us, I am going to cry. You know that, right?”  
  
“You and me both, Beale,” Stacie said. “Let’s blow this joint and get some food.”  
  
“Yeah. Can we go to Ice Queen?”  
  
“You’re going to get that ridiculous waffle brownie banana split thing, aren’t you?” Stacie asked as she slid the binder into her bag. “That’s not really food.”  
  
“It’s called the Frozen Princess,” Chloe said. She stood and leaned on the table while she waited for Stacie to get up. “And for your information, it is the greatest sundae ever imagined.”  
  
“It’s also the biggest sundae ever made, Chlo. You can’t possibly finish it.”  
  
They started for the door, and Chloe leaned in to bump her shoulder on Stacie’s. “I can if you help.”  
  
Stacie pressed her lips together while she tried to think of a way to say her body was a temple and she didn’t eat that kind of shit without sounding like she was shaming Chloe’s choices, but when she glanced sideways she saw that Chloe was wearing her bright, hopeful expression. “OK, fine, we’ll share the Frozen Princess,” she said, earning a light laugh from Chloe. “But I get the cherry.”  
  
“It has, like, six cherries,” Chloe said.   
  
“Then I want six cherries.”  
  
“You drive a hard bargain, Conrad.”  
  
In the end, a Chloe Beale smile coupled with a Stacie Conrad wink got them extra whipped cream and a whopping twelve cherries on top. They gave it a mighty effort, but in the end a nine scoop sundae sitting on a throne of waffle and brownie proved to be too much for even two people.  
  
They sat across the booth from each other, staring at half a waffle and a few pieces of brownie slowly soaking up about three scoops of now melting ice cream, for as long as it took them to drain their coffee mugs.  
  
“I estimate we’d have to sit here for at least half an hour before I could eat another bite,” Stacie said slowly.  
  
“I really wanted to finish it, just once,” Chloe lamented, absentmindedly poking at the sundae with her spoon. “But right now I feel like I might die, so.”  
  
Stacie kind of never wanted to look at ice cream again in her life, but Chloe’s face was vaguely sad and unfocused, which was a little like watching a puppy cry for its mother.   
  
“Let’s admit defeat for now,” Stacie suggested. Chloe nodded, frowning slightly. “How about we come back another time. Like, when Mitchsen is finally canon, we’ll both starve ourselves all day and then we'll come here and eat the hell out of a Frozen Princess to celebrate.”  
  
Chloe laughed softly, and when she looked up at Stacie’s wide grin, she couldn’t help grinning herself.  
  
“We can bring them with us and they can get one, too,” Chloe said. “We’ll see who can finish first.”  
  
“Have you ever actually seen Beca eat?”  
  
“No, I don’t think so.”  
  
“Well, you shouldn’t,” Stacie said. “It’s mildly upsetting to watch her eat, like, fifty percent of her body weight in one sitting.”  
  
“That’s awesome,” Chloe chirped.  
  
“It’s really not.”  
  
“Oh, but it is,” Chloe said. “Because in public, Aubrey eats like a proper lady. But at home, she can polish off half a pizza and an order of onion rings in, like, half an hour.”  
  
“They’re perfect for each other,” Stacie said dreamily.  
  
“They really are.”

* * *

 

Beca and Aubrey were, in fact, spending their afternoon at the movie theater watching a film, and it was indeed part of an assignment for World Religions. 

The whole thing was fucking awful.

Beca was a little pissed off before she even left her dorm. This was due partially to the simple fact that she didn’t enjoy movies in the first place, and partially to the fact that she had to try on four different shirts before finding one that looked good but also like she wasn’t  _ trying  _ to look good. 

Her mood improved for a fraction of a second upon spotting Aubrey, but the realization that she was happy to see her -- nemesis? partner in fraud? frenemy? (She had no idea at this point.) -- irritated her all over again.

She’d hoped that once they were in the theater and the lights went down she could just kind of zone out and ignore both Aubrey and the movie in favor of her own thoughts, considering the class assignment was to see the movie for a class discussion and not an actual graded quiz or paper. The trouble with that plan was that once they were in their seats with the boring ass movie rolling, Beca had nothing at all to distract her thoughts from the girl sitting beside her and the weirdly warm and prickly feeling in her entire right side that the proximity to Aubrey seemed to be causing.

Aubrey, on the other hand, had had no trouble getting dressed: she simply wore the same kind of casual yet thoughtfully classy outfit she always wore. Her own clothing related annoyance came only when she saw Beca walking up. Aubrey estimated Beca had probably spent five minutes choosing her outfit and another three pulling her hair back, and she looked adorable anyway. It was vexing, really.

Aubrey was actually looking forward to the movie itself, and was happy about the prospect of furthering their little charade without actually having to interact with Beca and subsequently deal with whatever emotions were born of said interactions.

Unfortunately, reality did not live up to Aubrey’s expectations. She thought she’d probably like the film if she could focus on it, but she and Beca couldn’t seem to agree on who got the armrest between them. Also, as far as she could tell, there was no one around to report their activities back to their friends (and likely too dark for them to be seen if anyone  _ were  _ there) and therefore she really wouldn’t be justified in holding Beca’s hand on said armrest.

Not that she thought she’d enjoy that.

* * *

 

“Well, that was two hours of my life I’ll never get back,” Beca said as she walked out of the theater, half blinded by the sun and wholly in need of hard core alone time with her mixing equipment. Or a nap. Basically anything that will get her away from Aubrey and either occupy or shut down her brain, which had developed the rather nasty habit of imagining inappropriate Aubrey-related things.

It was stunningly embarrassing, of course, when Aubrey snaked an arm around her waist to yank her backwards and Beca’s first thought concerned the way her back collided with Aubrey’s front and not the fact that she’d just nearly walked into traffic.

“Watch where you’re going,” Aubrey snapped before noticing that her arm was still firmly in place around Beca’s midsection and that the time it took her to say four words was definitely too long for that to be happening. She stepped back and busied her hands with smoothing down her shirt and hair.

“Um,” Beca said, still standing on the curb, facing the street. She blinked a few times, literally gave herself a tiny shake, and spun around, saying, “I hope someone saw that.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome,” she said.

“Yeah, no, thanks for, like, physically assaulting me, Posen.”

“I  _ saved  _ your  _ life _ ,” Aubrey said as she began to walk away. “Although I’m not sure why.”

“Because I’m charming and a pleasure to be around,” Beca said as she caught up.

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m super smart and hella hot.”

“Alliteration is tacky,” Aubrey aiming for haughty and falling short. “You are annoying and much too full of yourself.”

“You have an unhealthy attachment to the stick up your ass,” Beca said, but it came out sounding like a compliment.

“Hmph,” Aubrey said.

They walked a block and a half in silence. Aubrey kept her arms crossed over her chest and tried to determine how much longer she could possibly keep up with this farce. It was really starting to wear on her, and she wasn’t sure if her desire to avoid being the first to blink was really worth the torture.

Because there was now, underneath the facade of epically pranking their friends, a contest of wills to see which of them would be the first to suggest they call the whole thing off. Aubrey hated losing anything, and she very much wanted to outlast Beca, but nursing a crush on a woman who could barely stand her while they spent a sizable amount of their free time together was growing more painful by the day.

Beca, on the other hand, walked with her hands in her pockets and wondered if, somewhere in between the Aubrey who instinctively reached out to protect Beca from walking into traffic and the Aubrey who talked literally all of the shit in the world, there might be an Aubrey who could actually  _ like  _ Beca. 

She almost laughed out loud at herself, that she’d somehow gotten to the point where she had to admit -- at least to herself -- that she was actually into Aubrey fucking Posen. And then had to remind herself that Aubrey actively disliked her and was, truth be told, way out of Beca’s league.

Beca had thought the knot in her stomach would loosen as they approached the big oak tree where one walkway curved right toward the dorms and the other veered left toward the edge of campus where the student apartments were situated. She thought she’d feel relieved to escape, but she didn’t. She felt unsatisfied and found that she didn’t really want to leave Aubrey just yet, so she asked “Wanna grab a coffee?” 

“I have to write up some notes on that movie, and then I have a few other assignments to work on, so no, thank you,” Aubrey answered.

“Yeah, no, right,” Beca said. “Me, too. Not the movie notes things, though, that’s -- but yeah, I’ve got shit to do, too.”

“Goodbye, Mitchell,” Aubrey said as their paths split, not even slowing her stride. It wouldn’t look good if anyone was watching, but she was afraid that if she stopped she’d just end up spending the rest of the evening with Beca. She didn’t raise her eyes from the bricks beneath her feet.

“Later, Posen,” Beca said. Then she just stood there for a few moments, making a valiant effort at convincing herself she didn’t feel like she’d just been rejected. She had been, though, so she failed, and heaved a sigh before heading back to her room alone.

* * *

 

Stacie was waiting outside Beca’s door, leaning on the wall and staring at her phone. She pushed off the wall and didn’t even bother to say hello before asking, “Where have you been? Were you with Aubrey?”

“Oh my god,” Beca said, brushing past her friend to get to her door.

“Seriously, I’ve been texting you.”

“Oh, I -- it was turned off,” Beca said. She didn’t hold the door as she entered her room, but Stacie was close enough behind her that it didn’t really matter.

“Why did you turn off your phone? I’m having a crisis here, Beca,” Stacie said.

“I had to see that stupid movie -- which was awful, by the way, thanks for asking -- and I forgot to turn it back on. What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?”

“No,  _ nothing  _ happened, that’s the problem,” Stacie said. She flung herself dramatically across Beca’s bed and covered her face with her hands for a few seconds before groaning and sitting upright. She fixed her gaze on Beca and asked, quite seriously, “I need you to answer me honestly, here. Am I less hot than I used to be?”

Beca just stared at her.

“For serious! Am I getting fat? Are my boobs getting smaller?” She squeezed the breasts in question together with her hands.

“Is this a thing we’re really doing right now?”Beca asked. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

“Chloe declined to make out with me.”

“Who  _ what  _ now?”

“We were just hanging out and watching trashy TV and I was bored and she was bored so I offered to make out with her and she said no,” Stacie explained. “She actually said ‘no, thank you,’ Beca! What the hell is up with that? People do not say no to making out with me!”

Beca opened her mouth, but she was well aware that the words ‘no thank you’ could hurt and was honestly at a complete loss, so she just closed it before rolling her chair nearer to the bed and sitting down.

“I’ve never been turned down before,” Stacie continued, more quietly. “Is it  _ supposed  _ to make you want to cry?”

“Well,” Beca drawled, thinking as quickly as she could. “I think that depends.”

“On what?” Stacie asked, sounding very much like she actually did want to cry. “Why would she say no?”

“Stace, Chloe  _ dates _ ,” Beca answered. “She’s a serial monogamist. She doesn’t do random hook-ups; she does dinner and a movie. She doesn’t make out with whoever’s handy out of boredom, she kisses someone she likes when they walk her to her door after a nice date.”

“Yeah, but we’re friends. It’s not like I’m some stranger.”

“Maybe -- maybe that’s the problem,” Beca hypothesized. “Maybe she’s into you.”

Stacie flopped down again and rolled over on the bed to unleashed an epic groan into Beca’s pillow. A groan like a troll who had just stepped on a Lego. A groan Beca was sure would leave saliva behind. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

Stacie raised her head and shot Beca her very best glare. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said slowly.

“You’re fucking hopeless, you know that? You are  _ known  _ for not dating, Stace,” Beca said. “Either she’s not into you and said no because random making out isn’t a thing she does, or she  _ is  _ into you and she’s protecting herself.”

“ _ Protecting _ ?” Stacie scoffed. “I would never  _ hurt  _ her, Beca. That’s fucking  _ ludicrous _ . She is too sweet and pure for this world and I would--”

“Oh my god, do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Oh, shit,” Stacie said. She sat up and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I caught feelings, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “That’s why it made you feel like crying.”

“This is stupid.”

“I know,” Beca said. 

“What do I do?”

“First thing you gotta do is apologize for this afternoon,” Beca said. “Tell her you didn’t mean to disrespect her and that her friendship is important to you. Also, do it in person.”

“Then what? Then I -- I ask her to go on a date?” Stacie asked.

“No. Fix friendship now, worry about asking her out later,” Beca instructed. 

“But--” 

“Shut up and get out.”

“Fine. Lunch tomorrow?” Stacie asked as she opened the door.

“Yep. Let me know how it goes.”

  
Stacie was halfway down the hall before she realize she hadn’t gotten any Mitchsen information out of Beca. Oh well, there would be time for that later. She had an apology to make.

* * *

 

“I just really like her,” Chloe said quietly as she used Aubrey’s lap as a pillow. “And I can’t, like, just make out with her and then act like it was  _ nothing _ , you know? Because it--”

“You can do better than her, anyway,” Aubrey said gently. She was annoyed with Stacie, though she suspected there had been no will will on her part. “To hell with her.”

“I think that’s kind of harsh,” Chloe said.

She was probably right, but Aubrey was also annoyed by the way she wasn’t getting any homework done, by the very existence of Beca Mitchell, and by the fact that her phone was vibrating repeatedly on the coffee table.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Chloe went on. “Maybe a little awkward.”

“So you just said ‘no, thank you?’ You didn’t tell her how you feel?”

“Shit no,” Chloe answered. “Stacie doesn’t date, Bree. I can’t just drop that on her.”

Aubrey didn’t really know what to say. Well, she had ideas, but they all involved bad mouthing Stacie, and she knew Chloe wouldn’t want to hear that sort of thing, so she just stroked her friend’s hair and let her mind wander.

It wandered right into Beca Mitchell, though, which was unwelcome and unpleasant, but that was where her mind always wandered lately.

“You should check your phone,” Chloe said as she reached for it. “It’s driving me nuts.”

Aubrey accepted the offered item and unlocked it to find multiple texts and a missed call from,  _ of course _ , Beca effing Mitchell.

**Mitchell 5:12: So I just talked to Stacie**

**Mitchell 5:13: I’m putting my faith in you here so don’t fuck me OK?**

**Mitchell 5:13: She handled this badly but she really likes Chloe**

**Mitchell 5:16: Are you getting this or what?**

**Mitchell 5:17: This is actually kind of critical, dude.**

**Mitchell 5:20: POSEN come the fuck on**

Aubrey sighed.

“Who is it?” Chloe asked.

“Not important,” Aubrey said as a new text came in.

**Mitchell 5:22: Stacie might be on her way over there, I need you to get on board here**

Chloe rolled over enough to display a raised eyebrow, and Aubrey said, “Just a sec.”

“You want some wine?” Chloe asked, sitting up. “I’ll open a bottle.”

“Sure, why not?” Aubrey replied. Between Chloe’s sadness and Beca’s texts and, possibly, Stacie’s imminent arrival, it didn’t seem like there would be any homework happening any time soon.

**Posen 5:25: What do you want?**

**Mitchell 5:25: I want you to know that Stacie never catches feelings**

**Posen 5:26: I am aware.**

**Mitchell 5:27: BUT she really likes Chloe. She just doesn’t know how to show it appropriately.**

**Posen 5:28: And you want me to fix it for her?**

**Mitchell 5:29: Oh hell no let her fix it herself, just don’t cockblock her**

**Mitchell 5:29: Bad choice of words but you know what I mean**

**Posen 5:30: Chloe likes her a lot. I don’t want her to get hurt.**

**Mitchell 5:30: Stacie said Chloe is too sweet and pure for this world.**

**Posen 5:32: I’ll handle it.**

Chloe was back on the couch with a wine glass in each hand by the time Aubrey finished texting Beca. Before Aubrey could take a single sip, there was a knock at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” Chloe asked.

“Not exactly,” AUbrey replied. She set her wine on the coffee table and turned to study Chloe’s face. “You look great,” she said as she stood up.

“What?”

“Get the door,” Aubrey said as she headed for her bedroom. “Hear her out. I’m here if you need me.”

Chloe made her way to the door slowly enough that another knock came before she got there. She opened to find Stacie wringing her hands and shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Hi,” Stacie said. “I’m sorry about earlier, I--”

“Aubrey knew it was you,” Chloe said softly.

Stacie kept her voice low, as well, “At the door?”

“Yeah.”

“Beca’s the only one who could have told her! Proof!” Stacie whispered as loudly as she could.

“Proof,” Chloe said with a smile. She took Stacie by the hand and pulled her inside. They sat side by side on the couch. “So about earlier,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Stace. I just--”

“You date,” Stacie said. “You aren’t into random hookups. I’m sorry because I didn’t think about your feelings. I didn’t realize it would seem to you like I was -- trivializing you, or the way I feel about you.”

“The way you feel about me?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, which I actually didn’t realize at the time. Are we cool?” Stacie asked. “Because Beca said I had to fix our friendship before I could ask you out.”

“Ask me out?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t normally do that sort of thing, but--”

“OK, you two are idiots,” Aubrey said as she swept back into the living room. “I can hear you in there and honestly, it’s painful. It’s painful and distracting and I can’t get any work done while you’re out here flailing.” She stood in front of the couch and crossed her arms. “Chloe, Stacie genuinely likes you and is willing to vacate her comfort zone in order to date you properly. Stacie, Chloe likes you as well, and she will say yes when you ask her out. You should take her to Giovanni’s for dinner.” She headed back to her room, then, calling out, “Deal with yourselves quietly, I have a lot of homework to do.” 

Her phone was blinking with a new text alert when she got there.

**Mitchell 5:34: Thanks. I appreciate you not holding our mutual contempt against my friend.**

Aubrey chuckled bitterly under her breath. She could hear laughter from the living room, and the familiar sound of her best friend’s squeal of joy. Her chest ached, just a little. Aubrey figured that between herself and Chloe, Chloe was for more deserving of joy, so she told herself she was happy for her friend.

She told herself over and over again, but that little ache didn’t go away, so she decided it was time to give in.

**Posen 5:47: I think it’s time we stopped playing this game.**

Beca didn’t reply.


	5. Left Me Tired and Doubting

“Beca!” Stacie sang as she waltzed right into her friend’s room without knocking or offering any warning whatsoever. She leaned against the door after closing it. “Guess who has a date with Chloe Beale tomorrow night?”

Beca was sitting on the foot of her bed, leaning against the wall, and she looked down at the phone in her hand before taking a deep breath and lifting her head again. “You do,” she said.

“That’s right, I do,” Stacie replied. She crossed the room, dropped into Beca’s desk chair, and spun in lazy circles. “I’m taking her to dinner at Giovanni’s, which is kind of fancy so we can dress up and look fucking  _ amazing  _ together, and then I’m going to hold her hand when I walk her home through the park, and then--”

“Dude, I’m glad it worked out for you, but can we do this another time?”

Stacie stopped twirling. She turned the chair back a bit so she was facing Beca, furrowed her brow, and said, “Who shit in your sandbox? This is a big deal for me and you’re my best friend, can’t you at least pretend to--”

“Dude,” Beca interrupted. “I just said I was glad it worked out for you, didn’t I? Do you want me to, like, dance a fucking jig?”

“Yes,” Stacie said, waving her hand in a carry on gesture. “Do a little dance. Or just, you know, smile and act like you give a fuck.”

“I do give a fuck, Stace, I just--”

“You just what? I thought you’d be  _ proud  _ of me. I thought you’d slap me a high five at least, maybe even pat me on the back a little. I thought maybe in my wildest dreams you’d finally admit you’re seeing Aubrey and I could work on talking you into--”

“I’m not -- we’re not --  _ holy  _ fucking  _ shit! _ There is  _ no  _ me and Aubrey,” Beca said, tossing her phone aside and sliding off the bed.

“What do you mean ‘no me and Aubrey?’” Stacie asked. “You two have been sneaking around for a week. There are witnesses. I have a binder full of evidence.”

“You have a  _ what _ ?”

“Let’s come back to that later. Why have you two been attached at the hip if you aren’t seeing each other?”

“It was a fucking  _ joke _ ,” Beca said. She paced back and forth across the small space and waved her hands around uselessly. “We were just screwing with you and Chloe because you two fuckers just  _ had  _ to meddle and -- god  _ damn  _ it, this is all your fault! I never would have hung out with her if you hadn’t -- I never would have gotten to know her if --  _ fuck _ .” She sank back onto the edge of the bed and pressed her face into her hands. 

“OK,” Stacie said slowly. “You’re being a dick and that pisses me off, but you’re also clearly upset and that saddens me, so I’m not sure how to play this.”

“Just -- forget it, ignore all that shit, I’m sorry,” Beca said without uncovering her face. “I’m just -- I’m fine, don’t worry about it. You know what? We should celebrate, I have a bottle of vodka in my drawer--”

“You must be high,” Stacie said. “You’re saying you’re  _ not  _ seeing Aubrey?”

“I’m not seeing Aubrey,” Beca confirmed. She flopped over sideways and rolled onto her back.

“Chloe’s going to cry,” Stacie said quietly.

“Yeah,” Beca said. “That’s my main concern, certainly. The tears of Chloe Beale, who is partially to blame for this humiliating debacle.”

“That’s really mean, Becs, even for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just--”

“You just what?” Stacie asked. “You tricked us into thinking you liked each other but you still hate each other. It worked, ha ha, you got us. Why are you so fucking angry about it?”

Beca took a very deep breath and blew it out loudly. She stared at the ceiling and said, “I thought it would be funny. I thought we’d drop some fake hints and get ourselves seen once or twice, let you guys think something was up, but it just -- it got out of control.  _ Completely  _ fucking out of control.”

“How so?”

“Like neither of us wanted to back down, so when she suggested we mess with you by texting each other, I agreed. And when I suggested we have lunch where someone would see us, she agreed. And then it was like a -- a fucking  _ staring  _ contest, and neither of us was gonna be the one to blink, right? But along the way I just -- I could have gone my whole life not knowing what she was really like, and that would have been ideal, but now I know, and--”

“Now you know what?” Stacie asked.

Beca chuckled mirthlessly and covered her eyes again. “Now I know she’s smart but she’s also funny. She’s gorgeous but she’s also thoughtful. She’s driven but she’s also kind. She’s  _ amazing _ , and I fucking  _ fell  _ for her like a goddamn drunk ass skier, and she -- she did  _ not  _ fall for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“She sent me a text a little while ago,” Beca said softly. “She ended it. She’s so repulsed by me she can’t even stand  _ pretending  _ to date me anymore. But hey, that means I won the staring contest, right? Go me.” 

Stacie had a lot of questions, but she figured now was a bad time and maybe later was, too. She had a lot of ideas, as well, like calling Chloe to ask her to interrogate Aubrey or just heading back over there to kick Aubrey’s ass into next week, but Beca sniffled like maybe she was crying a little, so Stacie just said, “I’m sorry.” Then she got up, shoved Beca a bit to make room, and lay down beside her.

Beca rolled into her immediately, so Stacie wrapped her arms around her and squeezed until they fell asleep.

An hour later, Stacie woke up to find Beca at her desk with her headphones on. She tried to continue their previous conversation, but Beca just said not to worry about it. She said it was fine and she just needed a few days to get it out of her system. 

“Just please don’t get involved, OK?” she added. “You can tell Chloe we were just messing with you guys, but I don’t want her knowing I caught feelings like the idiot chump I am. There’s no way she won’t tell Posen, and I really couldn’t stand it if she found out. I would die of embarrassment.”

“But what if she--”

“She’s not into me,” Beca cut her off. “She’s made it  _ abundantly  _ clear. I just wanna, like, put this behind me and move on. OK?”

“OK,” Stacie said. “But if you--”

“Yeah, I know,” Beca said. “Thanks. And I  _ am  _ proud of you, Stace. Chloe’s great, and you two -- you make a good pair. I’m happy for you.”

Stacie recognized that tone of voice; it would be useless to push Beca any more -- she’d either shut down completely or blow her top. Stacie decided to drop it for now and give her some time before trying again. “Thanks. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow, OK?” 

“Yup,” Beca said. 

“I’ll save you some mac and cheese,” Stacie offered.

“You fucking better,” Beca said. She stood to let Stacie hug her goodbye for a long time, and once the door was closed she sank back into her chair and slid on her headphones.

She sat there half the night before she finally crawled into bed. Even so, it was quite some time before she fell asleep.

* * *

Aubrey slept poorly and woke up well before her alarm went off. She stayed in bed until it went off, thinking about whether she should tell Chloe that the whole Beca Mitchell thing was fake (and also over) or if she should just keep her mouth shut and hope Chloe forgot about it in the gleeful haze of her own romantic excitement. She considered various scenarios, weighed the likelihood of each, and ultimately decided there was a more than passing chance that while she was helping Chloe get ready for her date, Chloe might offer to return the favor. Aubrey would then have to either lie to her best friend or make her cry by telling the truth, and there was no way she was going to her out on a first date with red rimmed, puffy eyes.

There was also no way she was going to lie to her, so after her usual morning routine of showering, dressing, and making a pot of coffee, she also toasted a blueberry bagel and slathered it with butter and blackberry jam. She took a deep breath to steady herself before pushing through Choe’s door and entering without bothering to knock.

“Wake up, Chlo,” she said, shaking her roommate gently. “I brought you breakfast.”

Chloe rolled over quickly, her eyes already open, and looked at the plate and mug on her bedside table. Then she looked at Aubrey, who was perched on the edge of the bed with her hands clasped in her lap. Chloe blinked slowly, furrowed her brow, and said, “Did you break my favorite mug again?”

“No,” Aubrey answered. 

“Did someone die?” Chloe asked, pulling the comforter up to her chin.

“No, don’t be silly,” Aubrey said. “Sit up and eat before it gets cold.”

“Tell me the bad news first.”

“Fine,” Aubrey said, letting the word ride out on a sigh. “I know you and Stacie think I’m secretly dating Beca.”

“Yeah, and I’m a little hurt that you thought you couldn’t tell me.”

Aubrey winced, well aware that what she had to say next was going to cause more than ‘a little hurt.’ “I didn’t tell you because there’s nothing to tell,” she said carefully.

“Bullshit,” Chloe challenged, finally sitting up. “You were out with her til all hours after the acapella party, and the two of you have been sneaking around all week.”

“Honestly, Chloe. If I were sneaking, would anyone know about it?”

Chloe scrunched up her entire face, gave it a bit of thought, and started to cry quietly. “You  _ meant  _ to be seen,” said. “So we’d  _ hear  _ about it.”

“Yes,” Aubrey said, her own eyes welling up a bit because no one with a human soul can remain unaffected in the face of a crying Chloe Beale, particularly if they are the cause of said crying. “I’m sorry, we thought it would be a good joke, but -- well, it got out of hand.”

“I thought we’d go on double dates,” Chloe whined. “You and Beca and Stacie and me.”

“I know, sweetie, I’m so sorry. It was stupid.”

“It was stupid and  _ mean _ ,” Chloe corrected, but she still leaned into Aubrey’s arms and accepted a tight hug. “I thought you two were adorable. I was so happy for you.”

Aubrey felt like the jerkiest jerk who ever jerked. She couldn’t believe she got so caught up that it took her nearly a week to realize that idiotic game was going to hurt her best friend’s feelings, because  _ of course _ Chloe was deeply invested in Aubrey’s happiness. Of course it would break her giant heart to find out it was nothing, after all.

Probably the only person in the whole mess in more pain than Chloe was Aubrey herself, and she figured that while she deserved it, Chloe certainly didn’t. 

“You can wear those heels my mom gave me for Christmas last year when you go out tonight, if you want,” Aubrey offered. “I know it won’t make up for what I did, but--”

“The Louboutins?” Chloe asked, her hopeful voice small enough that it barely made its way out from where she’d pressed her face to Aubrey’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Aubrey confirmed.

Chloe squealed into Aubrey’s shirt before pushing away to lean against the headboard. She grabbed one half of the bagel, took a bite, and chewed. After she swallowed, she said, “You are eighty-five percent forgiven.”

Aubrey smiled in relief. She’d been hoping for fifty, sixty, tops. The generosity of Chloe’s love was staggering, really. 

“You’re going to have to do my hair for me tonight, though,” Chloe added, pointing with her bagel. “And my makeup.”

“I’d love to.”

Helping Chloe get ready would probably keep Aubrey’s mind off of Beca Mitchell for an hour or so. She was really looking forward to that.

* * *

Beca trudged toward the dining hall with her headphones over her ears and her head down. She kicked her resting bitch face up a notch to make absolutely sure no one would even consider approaching her, and turned the volume of her MP3 player down a bit to make absolutely sure no one could overhear the pathetic playlist of unrequited love songs she was listening to.

Most people thought she’d run out of fucks to give by the time she hit puberty, but the truth was that Beca was pretty emotional and prone to wallowing in sadness. It was just that she was also exceptionally good at covering it up with feigned indifference or casual asperity, and no one but Stacie had ever figured that out. 

World Religions had been a fucking trial. She didn’t feel up to participating, so she’d slumped in her usual back row seat and listened to the professor outline the similarities between the big three Abrahamic religions before moving on to highlight their differences. Aubrey stayed quiet, as well, so aside from the occasional pause for water or to answer some trivial question the entire hour and a half was just the prof droning on and on.

Beca normally enjoyed the class, but she couldn’t focus. She spent a lot of time scribbling doodles in her notebook and wishing she’d brought earbuds. She rarely used them because they didn’t sound half as good as her headphones, but she could have hidden them under her hair and at least mentally checked out without anyone noticing.

She had her notebook and pen put away and her backpack on her back by the time the prof finished saying, “That’s all for today,” and she was out the door before anyone else was even standing. She had zero desire to hang around long enough to give Aubrey the opportunity to not acknowledge her existence.

She’d slowed her pace, however, once she was outside the building. She had a low level dread sitting in her stomach regarding sitting across a table from Stacie for lunch, because she felt certain there would be questions about Aubrey and -- the horror -- Beca’s  _ feelings  _ about Aubrey. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings about much of anything at any time, really, and she was even more reluctant to do so when said feelings were embarrassing.

She just hoped Chloe wouldn’t be joining them. Beca had nothing against Chloe, because how could anyone have anything against the nicest person ever to walk the earth, but eating lunch with her and Stacie would be awkward. So, so awkward, and rife with potential dangers such as Chloe’s sadness and Stacie’s curiosity and Beca wasn’t in the mood for any of it.

It turned out she needn't have been worried. She  _ shouldn’t  _ have been worried -- Stacie knew her better than anyone, and of course she knew Beca needed space. Of course she didn’t bring Chloe along, and of course they talked anything  _ but  _ Aubrey Posen. Instead, they talked about things like what Stacie was planning to wear for her date and how Luke had promised to finally play some of Beca’s mixes on his radio show. 

Beca felt marginally better afterwards. She still listened to that sad, stupid playlist as she walked back to her dorm, though. 

* * *

When Stacie arrived to pick Chloe up for dinner, Aubrey listened from the kitchen as they greeted each other semi-awkwardly. She smiled to herself, and when Chloe came into the kitchen with a handful of wildflowers and a wide grin, Aubrey had already fetched a vase.

“I’ll take care of these,” she promised, and Chloe kissed her cheek before she left.

Aubrey carefully cut the stems at a forty-five degree angle before placing them in the vase with water, and then she positioned it at the center of the kitchen table. 

Afterwards, she headed to the bathroom to put away the remnants of their hair and make-up extravaganza, and then she figured she might as well clean a bit while she was there. Bathrooms always need cleaning, after all.

When she was finished with that, she decided the apartment was too quiet, so she turned on the campus radio station for the Friday evening program, which featured upbeat music likely intended to be a soundtrack to pre-gaming. Aubrey never pre-gamed, but she thought it also worked well as a soundtrack to tidying up the apartment in between sips of whiskey. She didn’t have anywhere to be and her class work was all caught up, so she figured she was entitled to be a little irresponsible. 

She wouldn’t call it a pity party, drinking alone on a Friday night while washing dishes and folding laundry and vacuuming everything and failing remarkably to keep her mind off of Beca goddamn Mitchell, but that was mainly because there was no one around for her to tell it to.

By her third pour of Four Roses, she’d moved on to re-alphabetizing the DVD collection (a constant struggle to maintain -- Chloe simply couldn’t be bothered to put them away in order), followed by making Chloe’s bed and picking up her dirty laundry for her, just in case she had company for the night. That thought led her to her own room, where she rifled around in the top drawer of her night stand for her earplugs, thinking they might come in handy later.

She had to dig past a tube of hand creme, a few pens, a small notebook, and the ticket stub from the movie she saw with Beca. That pissed her right off, so she headed to the kitchen for more whiskey to calm her nerves.

As she was opening the bottle, of course, the DJ introduced the next song as “a remix from our very own Beca Mitchell” and she released a long, loud noise that really straddled the line between a groan and a scream. How  _ dare  _ that tiny, tattooed woman affect her so much? How  _ dare  _ she worm her way into Aubrey’s head and set up camp without ever even  _ wanting  _ to be there? How  _ dare  _ this song actually be  _ good _ ?

It was infuriating, and it was ridiculous, and Aubrey Posen decided that she was simply not going to stand for it. Oh no, she wouldn’t stand for this  _ at all _ . She poured the whiskey, downed it in a gulp, and then poured another.

* * *

Beca saved her work, slipped off her headphones, and rolled her chair sideways so she could lay her head on the desk. The mashup she was currently just about finished with was good, even if it wasn’t her usual style. Not that a track mixing ‘Just the Way You Are’ with ‘Just a Dream’ due to her inability to get her mind off a certain uptight blonde would ever reach anyone’s ears but her own. She did have some pride, after all.

Pride was the only thing that kept her from responding to Aubrey’s last text. She might not be above hiding away in her room feeling sorry for herself, but she was above making herself out to be a total fool. 

She wanted to respond, though. She wanted to call and ask Aubrey how she could stand holding hands with someone she actively disliked. She wanted to ask why Aubrey’s first instinct had been to stop Beca from walking into traffic if she really didn’t give a damn about her. She wanted to ask why the expression on Aubrey’s face during their bickering matches sometimes seemed less like a grimace and more like withheld laughter.

That was probably what sucked the most about the whole thing. At times, it had seemed like Aubrey didn’t even hate Beca; that maybe she even  _ liked  _ spending time with her. Beca had actually been thinking of ways she might try to ascertain Aubrey’s true feelings and then, if the signs were good, make a move.

All that shit was out the window, though. Beca sighed as she sat upright again and reached for her headphones, but there was a knock at her door before she could put them back on her ears.

She stood and made her way to the door, but she was apparently too slow because whoever was on the other side knocked again, harder and longer than the first time.

“Dude, I’m coming!” she called. “Calm down.” 

When she finally got the door open, Beca was astonished to find none other than Aubrey Posen leaning against her doorframe.

“I am not going to stand for this, you know,” Aubrey said forcefully as she shoved herself upright and poked Beca in the collarbone.

“Stand for what?”

“Your bullshit,” Aubrey elaborated, still poking away.

Beca stepped back and Aubrey stepped forward, letting the door fall closed behind her. 

“My bullshit?” Beca asked. “Oh my god, Posen. You’re  _ drunk _ .”

“So what if I am? I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want,” Aubrey said.

“This is -- this is inappropriate.”

“ _ Inappropriate _ ?” Aubrey asked, raising her voice. She stepped up close and stared down into Beca’s face. “What’s inappropriate is how long it took me to get drunk enough for this.” She jabbed a finger at Beca’s collarbone again, and OK, that was starting to hurt.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Beca said, backing into her desk. 

“As if,” Aubrey retorted. “You and your stupid smirk and your funny jokes and your pretty fucking smile.” She spun abruptly around and swept her eyes over Beca’s room. “And your awful ear spike and your intolerable snark and your weird alt-girl style. It’s infuriating. I’m  _ infuriated _ .”

“Some of those things sounded like compliments,” Beca said.

“Well, they weren’t,” Aubrey said, “because they make me so angry.”

“Right,” Beca said slowly. “Why exactly are you here?”

“You make my insides feel weird, Mitchell, and you need to stop it!”

“Should I be flattered or offended that you got drunk so you could come here and yell at me? Because I’m really not sure,” Beca said, stupid smirk firmly in place. “I mean, I’m just trying to figure out if I should kick you out or not.”

“I will leave when I am ready.”

“Interesting.”

“You alphabetize your records,” Aubrey observed, leaning over Beca’s bed to study her shelves.

“That I do,” Beca said. She still wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but drunk Aubrey was kind of funny, and really cute. And possibly thought that Beca had a pretty smile. 

“I also alphabetize things,” Aubrey said, finally lowering her voice to a normal level. She turned around to face Beca again, lost her balance a bit, and sat heavily on the bed. 

“And you swear when you’re drunk,” Beca noted. “It’s really amusing.”

“It’s not. I drank all the whiskey and it didn’t even work,” Aubrey said. She waved both her hands around as she spoke, and kept waving them for a few seconds afterward.

“It actually seems like it worked exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You are -- you --” Aubrey said, leaning forward and pressing her face into her hands. “You are such an  _ asshole _ .”

“Can we go back to the part where my jokes are funny?”

“Can we go back to the part where I don’t like you?”

“You  _ don’t  _ like me?” Beca asked. Drunk Aubrey was adorable, but a little tough to follow.

“No, that’s the problem,” Aubrey said. “I can’t stop thinking about your stupid face.”

“So you  _ do  _ like me.” Beca sat carefully on the bed beside Aubrey, not touching her or bothering to try to hold back her grin.

“Wow, does this ever suck,” Aubrey said. She sat up straight, swayed a little, and ultimately flopped back onto the mattress.

“Wow, you’re really drunk right now,” Beca said. “Are you going to remember this tomorrow?”

“I really hope not.”

“Look, I--”

“I need to leave,” Aubrey said. She rolled onto her side and laboriously drug herself to her feet.

“You should stay,” Beca countered. “I mean you shouldn’t be just, like, walking around alone when you’re so clearly wasted.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, I just -- can you just sit here and listen for a minute?”

Aubrey stood in the middle of Beca’s room and stared at her for a few long seconds, her face some kind of strange mix of determination and sadness. Then she bent at the waist, took Beca’s face in her hands, and leaned in. 

Beca leaned back.

“Shit,” Aubrey said. “That was bad.” She dropped her hands and began to straighten up, but Beca grabbed her wrists and held her in place.

“No, no, just -- you would’ve regretted that in the sober light of day, Aubrey,” Beca said. 

“You called me Aubrey.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. She stood up and guided Aubrey gently until they’d swapped positions, and then she urged her to lie down. “How about you get some sleep, OK?”

“I’m sleepy.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Beca said. She pulled off Aubrey’s sneakers and pulled the comforter over her. She figured there was a good chance Aubrey would regret sleeping in a bra and jeans, but there was no way Beca was even approaching the subject of clothing removal. There was really no way to predict what  _ kind  _ of trouble that would result in, but she felt confident it would go badly.

“Will you stay?” Aubrey’s voice was small and her eyes were already closed.

“I live here, dude,” Beca said with a laugh. “I will be here when you wake up. And if you still -- just get some sleep, OK?”

“OK,” Aubrey said softly. Then she passed out. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter makes me feel kind of like its title. Probably one more chapter after this. Also I repeatedly fucked up the formatting while I was doing this one, so please alert me if my attempts to fix that were failures.


	6. I Can See a Brave Tomorrow

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Stacie woke up the following morning wrapped in nothing but a softly snoring redhead and a sheet. She lay still a few moments, smiling stupidly and kind of wondering why she was awake, until her phone chimed from the bedside table. She reached for it carefully so as not to disturb Chloe’s slumber and swiped at the screen, noting with some alarm that multiple texts from Beca were to blame for waking her. Before 8 AM.

**Beca 7:14: Dude are you up yet?**

**Beca 7:17: I’m sorry but I need you to answer me**

**Beca 7:19: I have a low level emergency over here**

**Beca 7:20: Like no one died or anything but I really need help**

**Beca 7:34: Goddamn it Conrad get off of Chloe and text me back you bastard**

She tried to roll Chloe over gently so she could sit up, but her efforts were in vain; Chloe just hugged her more tightly and whimpered quietly. Stacie chuckled a bit and gave up. She really only needed one free hand, anyway, so she used the one she already had to call Beca.

“Dude,” Beca hissed. “I said text me.”

“Are you OK?” Stacie asked. “How fast do you need me to get dressed? And why are you whispering?”

“I am  _ not  _ OK,” Beca answered. “Aubrey came over here last night and she was totalled the fuck out. Like, so drunk I had to put her to bed.”

“What?” Stacie said. She jostled Chloe awake as she sat up and thumbed the speakerphone button. “Aubrey’s there?”

“Mph?” Chloe asked. She blinked repeatedly in a manner Stacie was sure she’d find adorable forever. “Where’s Aubrey?”

“Dude, don’t put me on speaker,” Beca said.

“Too late,” Stacie replied. She heard Beca open and close a door. “So let me just get this straight: Aubrey Posen is in your bed?”

Chloe’s eyes widened and she turned her face to squeal into her pillow.

“Yes, she is in my bed, where she slept  _ alone _ ,” Beca confirmed, finally raising her voice to a nearly normal level. “And like, her hair is still perfect and she’s pretty even when she’s drooling and I fucking hate it and I am in the hallway because I’m afraid to wake her up.”

“This is the best day of my life,” Chloe said.

“Take me off speaker,” Beca said.

“No,” Stacie said. “I don’t get what you need help with, Becs. Do you not know what to do with a pretty girl in your bed?”

“You are the worst,” Beca said, “and I hate you, but I also really need your help because I want to get her a coffee and maybe, like, one of those croissants she likes but if she wakes up while I’m gone I’ll be coming back to an empty room so I need you to go get them for me.”

“Can I get a recap?” Chloe asked. “‘Cause I’m excited about this but I’m not sure what’s happening.”

Beca sighed. “Neither am I. Aubrey got wasted and came over here last night spouting all kinds of shit at me. Like I thought she was gonna fight me, but some of it wasn’t even mean, and then she tried to kiss me--”

Chloe squealed again. “Babe, chill,” Stacie said. 

“I can’t believe you two are my only backup. I need more friends,” Beca said, and Stacie could just see her rolling her eyes and maybe pulling her own hair.

“We’re exactly what you need,” Chloe said. “We got this. Just hold down the fort and we’ll be there in a jiffy.” She climbed out of the bed and stepped over to her closet, and Stacie watched her with a lack of shame and a lot of ideas about better things to do than rescue Beca. She loved Beca, she really did, but she wasn’t sure she loved her more than Chloe’s perfect ass.

“Coffees and croissants,” Beca said. She sounded resigned. 

“I know,” Chloe said, already half dressed and leaning across the bed to take the phone from Stacie. “Bye.” She ended the call and tossed the phone back at Stacie. “Get dressed, they need us.”

“My best friend is the worst cockblock in history,” Stacie griped as she moved to obey. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

“First of all, you don’t have a cock,” Chloe said as she tossed Stacie a shirt. “I definitely would have noticed. And second of all, who says there was going to be morning sex?”

“I do,” Stacie said, “but now instead we’re running errands for my socially inept best friend.”

“For  _ both  _ of our socially inept best friends,” Chloe corrected her, “who are idiots, yeah. But idiots who have gotten themselves into this weird little pickle because you and I meddled.”

Stacie sighed. “True. Let’s go fix this.”

Chloe grinned and kissed her quickly before taking her hand and all but dragging her to the door.

* * *

 

“Don’t knock,” Choe whispered.

“What do you want me to do, scratch at the door like a dog?” Stacie asked.

Chloe shrugged and scratched at the door with her fingernails. Stacie sighed and rubbed her free hand over her face. They both snapped their heads around when they heard a low chuckle accompanied by the jingling of keys, which turned out to be coming from a handsome guy at the next door.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “You’re just not waking Beca up like that, is all.”

“She’s awake,” Stacie said. “We’re trying to get her attention without waking up Aubrey. I’ll just text her.”

“Who’s Aubrey?”

“Who are  _ you _ ?” Chloe asked.

“Oh, that’s Malcolm,” Stacie said. “Mal, this is Chloe.”

“Her girlfriend,” Chloe added. She was smiling sweetly, but she slipped an arm around Stacie’s waist and tugged her close.

“Right,” Malcolm said, smiling back. 

“That’s fucking adorable,” Stacie said, kissing Choe’s temple. “Also, he’s gay.”

“Oh,” Chloe said. She smiled again, more widely this time, and extricated herself from Stacie to step forward and shake Malcolm’s hand. “So nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said. “So who’s Aubrey?”

“She’s into Beca, Beca’s into her, they’re both stupid. Aubrey came here drunk last night and passed out in Beca’s bed after they argued and once again failed to admit they’ve ever had a feeling, like,  _ ever _ ,” Stacie explained. 

“And we, as their respective best friends, are bringing coffee and croissants in an effort to keep Aubrey from running away the moment she wakes up because we ship them,” Chloe added.

Malcolm laughed as he turned to unlock his door. 

“You guys are not as quiet as you think you are,” Beca whispered as she opened the door just wide enough to poke her head through.

“Fuck off,” Stacie said affectionately as she passed her the bag of croissants. Beca scowled but didn’t comment further. She just deposited the bag on her desk and reached for the cup carrier Chloe offered.

“Thanks,” Beca whispered. Chloe and Stacie flashed her two wide smiles and four thumbs up that Beca completely ignored as she closed the door.   
  


* * *

 

Aubrey lay very still and watched through barely open eyes as Beca removed one of the cups from the carrier and took a sip before comically struggling to open the paper bag without making any noise. It was adorable. Aubrey hated it.

“I’m awake,” she said as she slowly raised her body into a seated position. Her head felt fuzzy and painful and her mouth felt fuzzy and dry and she really wanted to leave. She’d have to stand up for that, though, and deal with Chloe and Stacie who she had no doubt were lingering outside the door. She didn’t feel up to all that just yet, so she remained seated.

“Oh, ah, good,” Beca said. “Great, I uh, I have coffee.” She handed Aubrey the second cup before turning back to deal with the bag, which she ultimately just tore all the way down the side. “And croissants,” she said, offering Aubrey a flaky pastry on a napkin. Aubrey took it without speaking and spent a good few seconds staring at it dumbly.

“Are you OK?” Beca asked. “Like, you’re not gonna hurl, right?”

“Of course not,” Aubrey said. “Look, I -- I behaved badly last night, and--”

“Yeah, no, I don’t want to hear it,” Beca said, waving a hand as she sank into her desk chair.

“I understand that you’re angry, but you could at least let me apologize--”

“I’m not interested in your apology,” Beca said. She tore off a piece of her croissant. “Also, I’m not actually mad.”

Aubrey took bite of her croissant and a sip of her coffee to keep herself from making a comment concerning whether or not one ought to speak with food in one’s mouth. Once she’d swallowed, she asked, “Are they still out there?”

Beca shrugged. She was clinging desperately to a nonchalance she absolutely did not feel, and she was afraid that once she started saying the things that needed saying she’d lose her shit.

“Well,” Aubrey said, setting her breakfast aside while she put her shoes on, “I suppose I should be going.” She picked up her cup and croissant in one hand, stood, and smoothed her clothes out as best she could. If there was a shred of dignity left to her, she was damn well going to salvage it.

“You should -- you should stay,” Beca said. ‘We should talk.”

“We should pretend last night never happened,” Aubrey replied coolly. She stepped to the door, politely thanked Beca for the breakfast, and grabbed the doorknob. She twisted and pulled, but the door barely budged. “What the hell?” 

“Sorry, Bree, but we can’t let you out,” Chloe called from the hallway. “It’s for your own good!”

“How is Chloe strong enough to hold the door shut?” Beca asked.

“It’s Mal,” Stacie answered. 

“Sorry, Beca, but I love love,” Mal said. “I am duty bound to help.”

“This is not help,” Beca protested. “This is unlawful detainment.”

“Unbelievable,” Aubrey muttered. She yanked on the doorknob a few more times before she stalked the three steps back to the bed and dropped onto it in a huff, and then she took a large bite of croissant and chewed it forcefully.

What she did not do was look Beca in the eye.

“So, look, Aubrey,” Beca began. Then she stalled.

Aubrey kept on chewing a little longer. She swallowed and took a sip of coffee before announcing, “This sucks.”

“Yeah, of course, being trapped with me sucks,” Beca said. “I mean it must be such a hassle to be subjected to my intolerable snark and stupid smirk.”

“I was drunk,” Aubrey protested.”You can’t just throw whatever nonsense I said back at me.”

“So it was nonsense.”

“Of course.”

“You know, they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” Beca said.

“They’re idiots,” Aubrey snapped. “And just because I can’t get out of here doesn’t make it OK for you to try to humiliate me--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Beca interrupted, holding her hands up with her palms out. “I’m not trying to make fun of you, dude.”

Aubrey glared at her.

“Look, it’s just that -- well -- you’re right handed, and I’m left handed, OK?”

“What the living hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just that -- look, you and I butt heads, but -- oh, fuck it,” Beca said. “Just, like, give me a sec.”

“It’s not as if I have a choice.”

Beca rolled her eyes and turned to her laptop, flipping it open and typing in her password. “So, I do remixes and mashups,” she said.

“I am aware.”

Beca clenched her jaw briefly and reminded herself that the feral animal currently sitting on her bed was only acting like such a bitch because she was embarrassed and hungover and that, under better circumstances, she was actually charming and funny and kind. “So I made this one yesterday,” Beca went on after a deep breath. “It’s a Bruno Mars song and a Nelly song.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I know, right? I mean I’m not that into either one of them on their own,” Beca said. “And at first glance, they don’t seem like they’d fit together at all, right? But they  _ do _ , and together they make a song that’s -- it’s  _ better  _ than either of them was by itself. So just -- just listen, OK, and then if you want to leave I’ll make Mal let you out.”

“If you can make him--”

“ _ Please _ ,” Beca said. “Just hear it out.” She pressed play before Aubrey could say anything else.

* * *

In the hallway, Stacie rolled her eyes and wondered aloud if her best friend was smooth or lame or maybe a little of both. Chloe smacked her arm lightly and shushed her. Malcolm let go of the door knob and dabbed at his eyes.

“No one here has any chill,” Stacie said.

“It’s so beautiful,” Malcolm whispered.

“It really is,” Chloe said. She leaned head her on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her.

Stacie just shook her head.

* * *

When the song ended, Aubrey sat very, very still with her cup cradled in both hands on her knees. She took a breath to steady herself and asked, quietly, “You made that? For -- for  _ me _ ?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. She watched Aubrey stare at the cup in her lap and grew more certain with each passing second that she’d miscalculated horribly. “Thoughts?” she eventually asked.

Aubrey just pursed her lips and took a deep breath through her nose.

Beca sighed softly. “Take all the time you need,” she said. “I’ll just be over here.” She waved vaguely at her laptop, realized Aubrey couldn’t see that, and turned in her chair to press random buttons in her mixing program while she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable sounds of Aubrey walking out without a word.

Aubrey looked up at the back of Beca’s head and waited for the whirling pieces of her thoughts to finish banging into each other and settle into something more orderly. When they finally did, the first coherent sentence her brain formed slipped right out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“It’s too late,” she said.

Beca froze because she honestly hadn’t had enough time to prepare herself for the horror show she felt unfolding around her. She thought it would be best if she shouted whatever words would make Mal let go of the door, but she was finding it hard to remember any words and she had a feeling that her voice would be shaky if she spoke anyway. She settled for a heavy sigh.

“I mean,” Aubrey continued. “I’ve already shown up drunk and spouted all sorts of nonsense, and -- I’ve  _ already  _ humiliated myself.”

Beca planted her elbows on her desk and smashed her face into her hands.

“So, I can’t possibly make this worse, right?” Aubrey asked.

“Honestly,” Beca said, making zero effort to lift her head, “I feel like this is getting worse by the second.” She was surprised when her chair turned without her help, and she was just on the quiet side of scared when she found Aubrey looming over her. “Don’t kill me,” she squeaked.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Aubrey said. “I am going to try to kiss you again, and this time you are going to let me.”

Beca blinked a few times in shock, but recovered quickly and decided to just roll with it. “Oh, OK great, should I -- I should stand up, right?”

“You should shut up,” Aubrey said. Then she bent at the waist, took Beca’s face in her hands, and leaned in.

This time, Beca leaned forward and was pleasantly not that surprised to find that Aubrey was anything but hesitant. Where most people might start out with a light, gentle sort of a kiss to test the waters, so to speak, Aubrey Posen dove right in because once Aubrey Posen made up her mind to do something there would be no half measures. Half measures, in Aubrey’s opinion, were for the weak.

Aubrey, Beca discovered, kissed like she did everything else: intensely, expertly, and thoroughly. Beca was a fan of it. A big fan. So much so that when she was left a bit dazed when Aubrey finally stood up straight again.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Aubrey asked.

“Not a word,” Beca said, just managing to get the words out before her face split into a grin she didn’t bother trying to control. She tapped herself on the temple a few times and added, “Still waiting for my brain to start back up.”

“I was saying I need to go back to my apartment and shower before we go to breakfast,” Aubrey said.

“We’re going to breakfast?”

“Yes, we are.”

“But what if I--”

“We both know that a croissant and a coffee will satisfy that bottomless pit you call a stomach for less than an hour,” Aubrey said. 

Beca laughed. “OK then, how long do you need? Want to meet in like--”

“Oh no, you’re coming with me,” Aubrey said. “Grab some clothes. I am not running that gauntlet of weirdos in the hallway on my own.”

“Fair enough,” Beca said.

* * *

The weirdos in the hallway cheered and applauded when Beca and Aubrey emerged from the room, but they at least refrained from wolf whistling and no one tried to hug them, so it wasn’t as bad as they’d expected. Mal did put a fist up, though, and Beca rolled her eyes but still knocked her own fist against it. Chloe had tears in her eyes, but a round of promises to meet up at Ice Queen later that day made her clap her hands and grin like a maniac.

She did start to follow them as they walked out, but Stacie made a not so subtle suggestion concerning the proximity of her own dorm room and the two of them headed that way instead.

“They just had their first date,” Aubrey said. “And they’re already--”

“Yeah, don’t say it. I’m going to have to hear all about it at some point from Stacie and that’ll be bad enough,” Beca said. 

“I’m sure Chloe will give me a similar report,” Aubrey said.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to hear all about it through your wall on a regular basis.”

Aubrey huffed and hooked her left arm in Beca’s right. “I suppose we’ll have to fight fire with fire, then.”

A brief, sharp laugh burst from Beca’s mouth before she said, “Seriously?”

“What?” Aubrey asked. “You’re my girlfriend now. There will be sex.”

“Right, I mean -- yeah, OK,” Beca said. “I was just caught off guard, because that was like,  _ super  _ forward.”

“You’ve met me, right?”

Beca laughed again, stopped walking, and tugged on Aubrey’s arm. When Aubrey turned, Beca kissed her until things grew a little too heated for a public sidewalk and Aubrey decided it was best they move along.

Fifty yards later they reached the big tree where the sidewalk split. Aubrey pushed Beca up against it for a little more slightly inappropriate making out. They stopped twice more before Aubrey’s building came into view, and as they walked inside Aubrey said, “We’re going to have to leave early any time we go anywhere together.”

“Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” Beca asked.

“I  _ could _ ,” Aubrey replied, “if that’s what you want.”

“That is not even a little bit what I want,” Beca replied. “I’m actually thinking about suggesting we cancel breakfast. I feel like it can wait.”

“We do have the place all to ourselves for a while,” Aubrey said. She unlocked the door and headed straight back the hall. “Shower?”

“Yes, please,” Beca answered. He quickly locked the door behind her and trotted after Aubrey. “Then how about brunch? Because I’m definitely going to be hungry.”

Aubrey’s laughter bouncing off the bathroom walls was possibly the best sound Beca had ever heard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got lazy with the editing again. Point out my typos and shit please, and I'll fix them.
> 
> So I’ve set this as complete because this, I think, is as far as I meant for it to go. I kind of really like this little world, though, and I dig the Chacie a lot more than I expected to. So if you like this and want to see more, hit me up here or on my tumblr (writeme-justtheonce) with prompts or whatever, and I’ll see about adding to this or dropping some one-shots in this universe.
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there and for spending your precious time reading this.


End file.
